still our hands match
by bravevulnerability
Summary: '"Why do you even care so much? What is it that you want so badly that you can't just let this go so we can both move on with our lives?" she demanded, glancing over her shoulder to see him watching her forlornly.' Set in the summer between 1x10 and 2x01, continues on throughout season 2. Cover art by ournorthstars.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is what happens when I watch reruns.**

**Set at the end of the summer after season 1 right before season 2.**

* * *

_Two feet standing on a principal,_

_Two hands digging in each other's wounds,_

_Cold smoke seeping out of colder throats,_

_Darkness falling leaves nowhere to go_

_-Still by Daughter_

* * *

When she returns from her run that evening, he's at her door – waiting with his eyes half lidded and a colorful bouquet of drooping flowers in his grasp. Castle straightened as she approached, wiping the sweat from her brow and retrieving her keys from the inside of her shoe.

"How'd you get my address?" she snarled, shoving past him to insert the key into the lock and push the door open. "No wait, let me guess," she added just as he opened his mouth to answer. "The same way you got my mother's case file? Without my permission?"

"Kate."

The way he said her name as he followed her inside made her stutter in her stride to the kitchen. He sounded ragged, torn up and guilt ridden over what he had done to her, to them and their shaky partnership. She had expected the nuisance of a nine year old she had grown to know far too well, not the serious side of him she had only seen on rare occasions. But she refused to care, to have any sort of concern for him. He didn't deserve that.

"What the hell do you want?" she snapped, grabbing a bottle from the fridge and leaning back against her countertop, watching him like a predator, ready to attack if he dared come too close.

"You know what I want," he said tiredly, taking a reluctant step towards her kitchen, resting the dying flowers on the island. "I've tried calling you, texting you, emailing you. It was either show up here or at the precinct. I figured you'd prefer a place with less of an audience," he reasoned, but it only fed her agitation.

"I would prefer _neither_."

He huffed, finally some frustration beginning to show. "You won't even let me explain."

Kate slammed the water bottle down, droplets splashing up and raining down to splatter along her forearm.

"There is nothing to explain," she growled, stalking towards him. "You did the one thing I told you not to. The one thing I _told you _I could not handle. And for what? The sake of a character?"

She had stormed forward, practically in his face now, invading his personal space like he had so happily done to her plenty of times in the past, and she watched as his eyes widened, a strange mixture of shock, indignation, and… hurt? swirling in the darkening blue ocean of his irises.

"You think I did this for Nikki Heat?" he asked incredulously. "I only wanted to help you, not myself."

"That's bullshit and you know it," she muttered coldly, balling her fists at her sides to keep from hitting him. "What did you think, Castle? That you would look into her case and magically find the answers? See something I hadn't?"

"No, I thought I could use the extra resources I have to do more, to help you take this investigation further, to-"

"I didn't ask for your help! I don't want it," she spit, spinning on her heel and pacing back towards the countertop she had been leaning against.

When he was quiet behind her, she broke the silence with a question that had been nagging at her all summer as she had ignored his persistent attempts at contact.

"Why do you even care so much? What is it that you want so badly that you can't just let this go so we can both move on with our lives?" she demanded, glancing over her shoulder to see him watching her forlornly.

He pursed his lips, as if deciding something, before taking a couple confident steps towards her, trapping her in the corner of her kitchen.

"What if I said you?"

Her heart jerked in her chest and she narrowed her eyes at him, disbelieving and desperate to get him out of her apartment, out of her life.

"Don't even try that with me," she growled, her index finger jerking up to point at him accusingly. "All you care about is a good story."

"You're more than that, you know it."

She turned her head from him, stared angrily at the ground.

"Tell me what I have to do to fix this," he pleaded softly when she failed to say any more. But he just wasn't understanding.

He gingerly moved closer, his expensive shoes only inches away from her sneakers and she shook her head.

"You can't."

His fingers tripping tentatively down the bare skin of her arm startled her and she looked up at him ready to fight, prepared to literally shove him out the front door, but the remorse she saw in his face made her pause.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kate. I hurt you, and I'm-"

He looked as though he was about to hug her, wrap her tightly in his long arms and hold her against the warm breadth of his chest, hold her until the ache of what he had done seeped out of her, but she didn't want that. She couldn't handle that.

But instead of holding her, he kissed her. And she kissed him back before she could even think about the consequences – hard and unforgiving because she _hated _him for this. He was never supposed to hurt her, he was never supposed to get close enough to even gain the opportunity and suddenly she hated herself too, for letting him break her this way.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, so sorry," he murmured between the harsh nips of her teeth at his lower lip, cradling her face in his hands so delicately, as though she were fragile even though her actions fought viciously against the notion, and she realized she had been saying it all aloud, realized the tears were swelling against her closed eyelids and freefalling down her cheeks.

He caught them with his fingers, wiped them away, but she shoved his hands from her face, pushed her thigh between his legs, raised her knee to his hip, and grinded down. Castle jumped back as if she had shocked him, a cautious look of indecision battling against the lust in his eyes as he stared down at her, their height difference making her feel small and vulnerable and she lunged for him again.

He caught her by the shoulders, tried to still and subdue her even as her hands grew frantic traveling over his chest down to his waist.

"Kate," he gritted out, his hands tightening almost painfully around the bones of her arms. "Not like this. Not-"

She reached for his belt, tugged it smoothly from his jeans before he could object any further.

"Stop talking, Castle."

That pained look of helpless uncertainty remained on his face, but it didn't stop him from kissing her again, his lips moving over hers with renewed dedication.

Her fingers continued to work at his pants, pushing them down his thighs, down to his knees. She palmed him through his boxers, eliciting an uncontrollable buck of his hips and a breathless moan of her name into the skin of her neck.

She abandoned him for his jacket, shoved it from his shoulders and dug her nails into the fabric his shirt when he swept his tongue past her lips and cupped her breasts at the same time.

"Let me come back," he panted into her mouth, drawing her tank top over her head and slipping a hand under her sports bra. "We're good together, Beckett, we can-"

"You ruined it," she argued through gritted teeth, unable to concentrate as he alternated between kneading her breast and rolling her taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Told you – we're over. Can't go back."

His hands trailed down her bare sides, tracing over the heaving cage of her ribs, to hook in the waistband of her athletic shorts. They pooled at her ankles and she kicked them away with her socks and shoes. She was prepared to do the same to his boxers when his fingers suddenly slid past the line of her underwear and pressed insistently against her clit.

Kate's head slammed back into one of the cabinet doors behind her.

"Fuck," she gasped, unable to help the way she arched into his palm as his fingers circled her slowly. His touch made her body burn, fire consuming her veins like molten lava, and it was so good, but so wrong. Their first time shouldn't be fast and angry and up against her kitchen counter, but there shouldn't be a first time for them at all. They were supposed to be done.

But she couldn't make herself tell him to go.

He removed his hand from her panties, giving her a moment to catch her breath, to back away from the edge he had drawn her so close to so quickly, and allowed her to catch a glimpse of the glistening evidence of her arousal on his fingers before he placed them in his mouth. She felt her face flush hot as he purposely held her eyes.

"This doesn't feel like over," he murmured, a grin tugging at his lips that made her want to demolish him.

She jerked him forward by the silk of his boxers, pulled them down and let him do the rest while she focused on removing his shirt, purposely ripping the buttons as she yanked the two sides apart and reveling in the sound of them clattering across the hardwood of her floor.

A smart remark was on the tip of his tongue, she could see it forming on his lips, but it died as she closed her hand around his erection, purposely squeezed and stroked and circled until he looked like he was on the verge of combustion.

He growled her name and she released him, hoisting herself onto the counter that had been digging into the small of her back since they had begun this mistake that she was sure to regret, and he immediately came to stand between her open thighs. She removed her sports bra, tossed it to join the sea of clothing that was consuming her floor.

Hesitation claimed his face once more as his eyes roved over her bare figure, so she grabbed him by the hips, urged him forward until his fingers were digging into her thighs and he was pushing inside her.

Her arms instinctively locked around his neck, her nails like talons in the flesh of his back, keeping her body crushed against his while she hid her face in his shoulder and attempted to breathe steadily through the feel of him pulsing inside her.

He tried keeping a slow pace at first, pulling out of her only to smoothly glide back in, but she refused to allow him to turn this into some tender act of lovemaking, and stabbed her heels into his legs, twisted her hips and relished in the groan that stumbled out of his mouth.

There was nothing but the feeling of him slamming into her then, the rock of her hips back into his, the slap of skin and the sizzle of pleasure. They found rhythm with ease, sloppy and desperate, already too good at this, as if they had practiced so many times before. Somehow it didn't surprise her; she'd already known they would excel in this element.

His fingers scorched a path of fire down her stomach to relocate her clit and wipe her mind of everything else – her mother's case, his betrayal, all the hurt that had come with it, the regret of losing what she thought had been shaping up to be a trustworthy partnership.

Her hand migrated thoughtlessly to his hair, tangled in the ruffled locks and tugged his mouth from her neck, molded his lips to hers and matched the stroke of her tongue to the cadence of his thrusts. She felt his thumb rise to sweep over the edge of her eyebrow, his palm cradling her jaw while the other hoisted her thigh higher and forced her to break the seal of their mouths to hiss at the dizzying change in angle.

They could have been so good together.

"Why couldn't you just leave it alone? Why did you – why'd you have do this to me?" she rasped before ducking her head back to his shoulder and biting down on his skin to muffle the sobs as the spring coiled low in her abdomen curled tighter and tighter.

Her spine snapped forward as she arched into him, her vision blanketed in white as she crumbled apart, and even as she drowned in the waves of pleasure, she held him through the final few jerks of his hips until he came inside her.

She removed her nails from his skin once she was sure her hands wouldn't quiver and dazedly watched her fingertips trickle down the blade of his shoulder, over to the muscle of his bicep still flexed below her chin.

"I never wanted to – I don't – I'm sorry," he choked out seconds later, and it took her a moment to remember what he was talking about, and when she did, she knew it was time for him to go.

Kate pushed on his shoulder and gently, he eased out of her, keeping his eyes on the hand still clenched around her thigh. He carefully released her, smoothing his fingertips over the already bruising skin. She wished she had the courage to do the same to the bite mark on his shoulder, the crescent shaped indentions she knew now lined his back.

"Can I stay?" he asked quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper, like sandpaper scraping her raw. "Here, with you?"

She bit her lip, because part of her wanted to tell him yes, and that was unacceptable.

"Go home, Castle. Please, just go home."

"Is this… Are we-"

"Nothing. We're nothing," she stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest to preserve what little dignity she had left. "This meant nothing."

She knew her words hurt him, didn't even have to look, but felt the way he physically deflated. His eyes dulled to a near grey and he nodded solemnly in acceptance.

"I'll go then," he said quietly, tugging his jeans up, snagging his shirt from the ground, and surprising her when he leaned forward to brush a kiss to the corner of her mouth, so much like the one he had given her during their very first case when she absolutely could not stand him. Only this time, it was like he was really saying goodbye. "Night, Kate."

"Night," she whispered, keeping her eyes on her knees as he headed further and further away from her.

When she heard the door close and looked up to see she was finally alone, she began picking up her clothes, but a flash of color caught her eye and she drifted slowly to the bundle of mistreated flowers wilting away on the island in the middle of her kitchen. She ran a finger over the soft petal of a yellowing white lily, her heart clenching. Still naked and drenched in Castle's scent, she padded over to the cabinet that held what few vases she owned, took down her favorite and filled it with water. She arranged the flowers he had brought her, still beautiful even in their slow coming demise, and turned towards her bedroom to wash away the shame lingering on her skin.

* * *

It shouldn't have surprised her when he showed up at the precinct the next morning, feigning eagerness at having a reason to be back thanks to the mayor and a magazine shoot, but every time his eyes met hers, they held apology. And knowledge.

Later that night, at the crime scene he managed to weasel his way into, he stayed glued to her side, suffocating her with his closeness.

"We should talk."

"Nothing to talk about," she muttered, shooting him a warning glare over her shoulder.

"Well, at least let me know what I can do to make it up to you."

"You could leave me alone," she tossed out, already knowing it was a futile thing to hope for.

"Yes, well, I tried that and if you remember last night as well as I do, that obviously doesn't work."

She immediately felt the flames licking at her neck, crawling up her cheeks, and silently prayed the darkness of the night would hide the coloring of her skin. They were at work, she could not allow herself to remember the way his skin had felt under her hands, how his body had engulfed hers, and how his tongue-

"Focus, Castle. Crime scene, okay?"

They worked the case together, what was supposed to be their absolute last case together, and of course it ends with her stripping down and channeling her Russian alter ego to save his ass. She didn't change back into her work clothes once it was all over with; instead, she wordlessly led Castle to her cruiser, drove them straight to her apartment. He didn't question it, only kissed her when they staggered through her front door together.

She allowed him into her bedroom that night, her body still aching from their time in her kitchen and yearning for a soft surface this time. After two rounds and even a little Russian roleplay, she was ready to ask him to go and knew he could sense it, so he rose and began gathering his clothes from the ground.

"You kept the flowers," he murmured and her eyes fluttered open to see him kneeling at her bedside, watching her intently.

"They'll die soon."

"But you didn't throw them out."

She didn't say anything to that, didn't know _what _to say to him anymore.

"What I did-" he started suddenly, had to clear his throat and begin again. "What I did was wrong. I violated your trust, I opened old wounds, and I didn't respect your wishes. And if you want this to be the end, if we're not going to see each other again, then you deserve to know… I'm very, very sorry."

It was the apology she had needed yet never expected to hear and before she could stop herself, her fingers gripped the collar of his dress shirt before he could stand and tugged him forward.

"See you tomorrow," she murmured through the press of their lips.

He smiled softly, kissed her shoulder, and lifted to his feet.

"And Castle, this-"

"Doesn't mean anything. I know, Kate." His smile was sad that time, a forced lift of his lips illuminated by the sliver of moonlight that slipped through her window and she couldn't ignore the mournful tinge to his voice, but she pretended to.

She listened to him walk through her apartment, out the door, and pulled up the sheet from the edge of the bed, curled it around her body and laid her head on the pillow that smelled like him. She knew it wasn't what he wanted, not exactly, but it was all she could give.

It couldn't mean anything.

* * *

_Hate is spitting out each other's mouths,_

_But we're still sleeping like we're lovers_

* * *

**A/N: So many thanks**** to Laura for the cover art and the reassurances. **

**Thank you to any who took the time to read. Feedback is always welcome and immensely appreciated.**


	2. 2x03: Inventing the Girl

**A/N: I truly intended to leave this story as a one shot, but then some of you asked for more and ideas sparked and here we are. Each chapter will take place during or shortly after the labeled episode.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

_2x03: Inventing the Girl _

* * *

"So, what would Nikki Heat do after a bad day?"

"She'd go home, pour a stiff drink, run a hot bath, read a good book."

She seemed to be enjoying his summary, nodding along, but pursed her lips at the last suggestion.

"Too bad I don't have a good book to read."

"Mm, I'd let you have Heat Wave, but my publisher doesn't want any copies leaking out."

"Why'd you let that _Cosmo_ reporter read it then?" she asked lightly.

"Well, that's for publicity purposes. You know, you want the press to have a little taste of…" And oh, _oh_, now he understood. She _was _upset earlier and this was why. "Wait, whoa. Is… is this why you've been so upset? Because I let her read it before you?"

"I am the inspiration. I should be reading it before a reporter does," she replied calmly.

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"Why didn't you just give it to me?"

"Why didn't you ask?"

"Why didn't it occur to you?"

Castle paused to think, but no, he wasn't going to win this one. He was too distracted by the way her lips heatedly formed around the word 'occur' anyway.

"You'll have it by tomorrow."

"No," she corrected, leaning back in her chair. "Tonight."

"Shall we be doing more than just reading?" he asked innocently, but waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"Just bring my copy of your book and a bottle of wine, Castle."

He nodded, rose from his chair and headed for the elevators with a spring in his step.

"Good thing I've hired the model babysitter for the night."

"Way to go, Big Rick," she teased, turning her attention back to her computer, but when he glanced back to her through the slit of the closing elevator doors, she was smiling.

* * *

He brought her the best bottle of wine he could find in his wine rack, aged by a couple of years and rich with flavor; he also bought her more flowers. It was stupid and probably made him look like a fool, but she had kept the last bouquet, and he was aware those had wilted away and been thrown out last week, so he purchased her a new arrangement – roses the color of a warm sunset, deep purple carnations, and lilies in a soft yellow.

Castle knew what they were – _nothing_, as she had put it, but more specifically categorized in a 'friends with benefits' sort of pairing. He didn't necessarily like it, but he could live with it, and he wouldn't deny he enjoyed it. He also knew pushing for anything more would only push her further away, but he didn't think buying her flowers to brighten up her dim apartment would cross too many boundaries.

"Hey," she greeted that night when she opened her door for him.

"Hey," he echoed, grinning at the sight of her dressed down in yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt.

"More flowers, Castle? You do know the last ones suffered horribly under my care," she sighed as he handed her the assortment, but even as she said it her eyes were roaming fondly over the radiant bouquet. "They're beautiful, thank you."

He smiled back at her like an idiot and quickly retrieved the book from his messenger bag.

"Your advanced copy of Heat Wave," he announced once she had set the flowers in a new vase on the island – the same place the last had resided.

She smirked and proudly plucked the book from his hand.

"And your wine," he added, producing the bottle of red and holding it between them, but she merely tilted her head towards the couch.

"I'll get some glasses and meet you there."

He nodded and trotted over to her living room. She didn't take long to join him, retrieving two decently sized wine glasses from a high cabinet and handing one to him before taking a seat at his side. He poured them both generous amounts of the red liquid and allowed his eyes to drift to the book she had left on the counter.

"So, when will you start?"

"Start what?"

"My book," he stated as if it were the most obvious of answers and she rolled her eyes at him as she sipped her wine.

"Did you expect me to sit here and read it in front of you?"

Well. He had hoped…

"Not happening, Castle. I'd prefer to read in peace," she retorted.

"Then what are we going to do tonight, Beckett?"

She surprised him, played along and pretended to actually ponder his question.

"I don't know... We could watch TV?" she shrugged.

He nodded and subtly let his hand fall to her knee, his fingers wandering up to the inside of her thigh. "Play a game of Scrabble."

"Yeah, maybe order some food."

"All great ideas."

"Mhmm," she murmured, setting her glass on the coffee table and stealing his away as well. "But I've got a better one."

She crawled into his lap, her body a familiar weight that fit so comfortably against his now, and he smoothed his hand down her back, traced her spine through her t-shirt before tugging the worn fabric over her head. He was delighted to find she wasn't wearing a bra and she laughed at the eager expression he must have displayed because of the discovery.

It was a rare thing – to hear her laugh in their time together. She had invited him over a couple of times now since that first night against her kitchen counter – after she had saved his life from a Russian mobster and after winning a bet against Ryan and Esposito once they had closed their previous case – and since then, he knew she made sure to hold her emotions hostage from him. Her body moved in all the right ways, fell into a perfect and effortless dance with his, but she always treated him like he was nothing more than a means to an end.

He tried not to let it bother him, he really did, but he already knew he cared too much about her. Wanted her in ways that would send her running as fast as she could go. He couldn't necessarily blame her, not after what he had done.

So he settled for the connection she allowed him, the canvas of her body his to paint, and put everything he had into making every time they came together so good she couldn't resist dragging him home with her case after case.

Kate rocked her hips when he spent too much time paying tribute to her chest. Another unspoken rule: fast not slow. He growled quietly and nipped at the tender skin behind her ear in response, reveled in the shudder he caused and the clench of her fingers at his shoulders.

Castle sat up and turned to lower her onto the couch. She went willingly, removing her pants while he shucked the t-shirt he had changed into when he had stopped by the loft a few hours before returning to her, and unzipped his jeans. And when he glanced back at her a moment later, he saw she was watching him, her fingers between her legs, tracing lazy circles over herself.

He hastened in the removal of his jeans, feeling them growing too tight too quickly anyway, and snatched her hand, pinned it above her head into the soft material of her sofa.

"So impatient," he grumbled and she smiled to herself as he situated himself above her.

"Then hurry up," she sighed, dragging the nails of her unrestrained hand down his bare back to cup his backside.

He watched her face as he entered her, watched her eyes slam closed and her lips part, and squeezed the hand still trapped under his as her scorching, silk walls engulfed him.

"Move," she gasped, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek and her nails scoring his ass, and he complied without complaint, withdrawing until he was almost completely out of her and then gliding back in.

When they had started this, he had feared "don't make it personal" had meant he wouldn't be allowed to kiss her, and if he couldn't claim her mouth, this arrangement would indefinitely fail terribly. Because it had only taken one taste of her lips to know kissing Kate Beckett was something he wanted to strive for every chance he got. But she had proven early on that no part of her body was off limits, usually the first to surge forward and steal his breath with her lips, invite his tongue to dance with hers. He beat her to it this time though, ducking his head to suck her bottom lip into his mouth, tasting the expensive wine still on her tongue, and she groaned, undulated her hips harder into his.

"Faster - fuck, Castle, _please-_"

He knew by the breathless mewl to her voice that she was close and he did quicken his pace, but not by much, had to grit his teeth to keep from losing control and pounding into her until they both saw stars. He wanted more time, even if it was only seconds more. His hand slipped down her body, over her breast, past her hip, to the small of her back, where his palm settled and then hauled her upwards without warning, their hips crashing and skins smacking. She released a high-pitched moan and threw her head back into the cushioning, clenched her inner muscles so tight around him that his vision spotted with black and he couldn't bear to hold back any longer.

He collapsed onto her and she managed to embrace him through the white-hot spasms washing through her body. It took a few minutes, but Castle finally released the hand that had remained knotted with his above her head once he could lift onto his elbows again. He winced at how red her palm and knuckles were, how much pressure he had likely placed on the assortment of small bones; he gently curled her blanched fingers into a fist to help recover circulation to the likely cramped digits and skimmed his lips at her wrist.

Her lips grazed the hollow of his throat in return and he looked down to see her eyes sated but waiting. Patiently waiting for him to get off of her so he could leave.

Rick slid out of her carefully, like always, and she hissed quietly at the loss, curled in on herself for a moment as he lifted to his knees and sat back on his heels to give her space. She grabbed for her t-shirt hanging haphazardly on the edge of the coffee table and he began the degrading task of tugging his clothes back on. He had started to resent getting dressed here; it always meant he would soon be out the door, never allowed to linger long.

"Thanks for the copy, Castle," she said softly when he was stepping into his shoes and wordlessly making his ways across her living room. "See you tomorrow."

He was almost to the door, but glancing over his shoulder to see her sitting with her hair so gorgeously disheveled and her long legs folded under her with only her t-shirt covering her body had him jogging back and pressing an impulsive kiss to her unexpecting lips before he could think better of it.

And then he was retreating out her door before she could punish him for it.

* * *

Kate shook her head. Stupid man.

But she smiled shyly to herself as she smoothed her fingertips over her swollen lips where he had kissed her, not in the throes of passion, but in a simple goodbye.

She found she didn't mind so much.


	3. 2x04: Fool Me Once

_**Picks up after Beckett leaves the precinct and has settled comfortably in a bath at home with Castle's book.**_

* * *

_"Where are you going? It's early."  
"I've got plans."  
"Oh, you have a date, don't you?"  
"No."  
"You liar. Who's the unlucky guy?"_

_2x04: Fool Me Once_

* * *

"What are you reading?"

His book nearly went into the water as she jerked forward, bubbles spilling out over the rim of the tub and her elbow nearly taking out her wine glass.

"I knew telling you where I hid my extra key was a horrible idea," she grumbled, sinking further into the bath. "And some mediocre literature," she responded in answer to his question, knowing it was too late to hide the advanced copy of Heat Wave he had given her the other night.

He scoffed at the jab and breezily moved deeper into the room, perched himself on the edge of her bathtub.

"Castle, do you mind?" she huffed as he unabashedly stared down at her exposed figure through the water.

"Modest all of the sudden?" he smirked and she flicked a small mound of bubbles at him.

"I thought you had a date," he said suddenly and she snapped her eyes up to see him watching her with the jealousy simmering and unhidden like a blue flame in his eyes.

"Did you seriously come over here to check if I was screwing someone else?" she questioned crossly, but immediately felt the weak swell of anger subsiding at the ashamed look on his face and lowered her voice to a softer tone.

"Date was with your book, Rick," she admitted in a mumble. "And I drew this bath to relax with it, so don't think I'm inviting you in here."

"Oh, but I can help you relax, Detective," he said with a hint of mischief that always made her uneasy.

"Castle, just go wait in the - oh." Having risen from beside her and moving to stand at her back instead, he kneaded his fingers into the knots under her skin, applying sinfully delicious pressure to her neck, her shoulders, and along the sides of her spine. "Mm," she couldn't help but hum, slipping her bookmark into his novel and setting it down next to her wine on the small table beside the bath. "Maybe you can."

"See, Beckett? I'm good for more than just sex."

She straightened at that, but he coaxed her back down, reassuring her it was only a joke, but it still made the guilt she was now so well acquainted with swirl fiercely in her stomach. But then Castle drove his thumbs into the base of her skull, carving small circles into the skin and bone beneath her damp hair, and her mind went blissfully blank.

"I thought you wanted to be at home tonight, to monitor Alexis' violin lesson with the hot musical mentor," she mentioned, feeling him grinning behind her, because even she could hear how her voice slurred through the comment.

"I did, and we may have had a little disagreement over it, so I decided to give us both some breathing room," he explained. "Plus, I wanted to see you."

She ignored the last part and rolled her eyes at him.

"Castle, you have to trust her. Do you really think your daughter would ever do something inappropriate with this guy?"

"Well - no - but-"

"And did you get a bad feeling about him when you met? Does he seem like the type who would take advantage of Alexis in any way? Especially while both you and Martha are downstairs?"

He paused in his ministrations and huffed, the cool air whooshing past his lips and onto her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt along her neck and she attempted to sink lower into the steaming water. "Do you have to be so logical and crush my over protective views on the males in my daughter's life?"

"Yes."

"I'll tell Alexis she can continue her lessons with him when I get back," he sighed in defeat and she smirked, tilted her head back until she encountered the wall of his chest behind her.

"In a couple of hours?" she murmured, purposely lowering her voice in a way she now knew drove him mad. Her bedroom voice.

He gulped. "In a couple of hours."

Kate turned her head, pressed her face against the fabric covering his clavicle and allowed her eyes to slide open as his fingers left her shoulder to curl around her chin. Her body felt pleasantly loose from the brief massage he had given her and she hummed again, contently, when he kissed her slowly on the mouth.

She had fought hard to steer them away from this territory since they had started this whole 'partners with benefits' arrangement, insisting they do not make their time together like this personal and more intimate than it should be. But she was fooling herself. It would always be personal, every time he touched her, and she could accept that for tonight.

She gripped the edge of the tub with both hands, ready to lift herself out and let him take her to bed, but Castle's hands returned to cup her shoulders, eased her back down.

"You're relaxing, Beckett," he mumbled, dusting his lips down the side of her throat, his tongue darting out to sip at the beads of glistening water droplets on her skin, and she could already feel her body heating up, rivaling the water temperature of her hot bath with ease. "And I'm helping."

"But-"

"Just relax," he insisted, his warm palms abandoning her skin for a moment to shed his jacket and roll up his sleeves, and she watched through hooded eyes as he went to his knees beside the tub and snatched her loofa from a shelf on the nearby wall.

He dipped the lavender colored bath item into the sudsy water and proceeded to run it down the line of her vertebrae, over her arms, her collarbones, down to her breasts, moving so purposely slow, seducing her body and causing her every nerve ending to react to him.

She arched an eyebrow, playing as if she was unaffected by the attention he paid to a body he already knew too well. "Is this how you've decided to go about copping a feel for the evening?"

He shrugged, grinning again even though there was a resolute look of dedication in his bright eyes as he scrubbed softly at her skin.

"Perhaps."

Kate shook her head and leaned forward, knocked the loofa from his hand and laced her arms around his neck.

"I like your hands better," she husked into his jaw as she scraped her teeth over the rough patch of stubble she had grown so fond of over the past week.

He cursed and the arm that wasn't curled around her slick back returned to the water, where he softly cupped her breast, swiped at her nipple and squeezed her gently in his hand. So gentle, too gentle, but she didn't want him to stop or hurry his pace. The leisurely trail of his hand down the middle of her sternum, down to her stomach, where he traced her navel with his index finger, had her moaning into his mouth, suddenly wishing she had invited him into the water with her after all.

"Castle-"

His fingers descended even further until he was just barely teasing her clit and then dragging through the heat of her folds and around her entrance. She whimpered and he slowly slipped a finger inside.

Her dripping hands clutched at his neck, wetting his hair and urging him closer until he was mere inches away from drenching the front of his button down shirt in the tub of water. So she rose to meet him, arched her chest so her naked skin pressed to his clothes, and he breathed her name through a low groan, dug his short nails into her back. He added another finger and she failed to stifle the moan that rose from deep in her throat, rolling her hips and grinding into his hand. The water began sloshing upwards at her motions, splashing him and drenching the floor, and she managed to catch the plug in the drain with her toes, unhooked it to lessen the risk of a tsunami.

Castle pressed the heel of his hand against her clit, sandwiching the already sensitive nerves there and making her gasp and jerk her hips higher, almost out of the descending water entirely. Her abdominal muscles quivered from the awkward, half sitting position, but the support of his arm at her back kept her from collapsing and she gripped him tighter as he brought her closer to release with the curl of his plunging fingers inside her and his tongue on that tender spot under her jaw and – _oh, fuck, _she couldn't, she couldn't_ –_

Her entire body unraveled in his arms as her orgasm rippled through her on an exhale, slow and soothing, but still fiery in its intensity. Her heart eased from its hammering beat and she nuzzled his neck, let him hold her limp frame against him as she breathed through the signature tremors and aftershocks.

Castle carefully withdrew his hand from her, discretely swished it around in the dwindling inches of bathwater before he grazed his knuckles up the pattern of her ribs.

She shuddered, her skin still far too sensitive, and turned her forehead into the juncture between his neck and his shoulder.

"I could refill the tub," she murmured, far too dreamily, totally unacceptable. "You could hop in."

His smile was smug against her temple, but she could care less. She could not remember the last time she had felt so loose and unwound, her limbs like jelly and her mind so gloriously hazy, and she would never admit any of it to him, but she could at least show her appreciation.

"I would, but I think you'd fall asleep on me, Beckett," he chuckled.

She halfheartedly flicked at his ear and he pulled away. The final sips of water streamed down into the open drain and Kate forced her unsteady legs to cooperate as she hauled herself upwards, only accepting Castle's hand once she was climbing over the rim and planting her feet on the floor.

She dried off with her favorite plush, white towel from the nearby rack while Castle bent down and retrieved the black, satin robe she'd had on earlier, draped it over her shoulders.

"Go to bed," he instructed lightly when she listed into him, but it was purposeful. She could sleep, her eyes already half lidded and her body singing with warmth, but she wouldn't mind if he wanted to stay a little while longer.

She nodded and tangled their fingers, but he shook his head.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he whispered, stepping in close to kiss her too delicately before releasing her hand and heading for her door.

"Castle?" she called uncertainly, the beautiful flush of relaxation he had helped her achieve slowly slipping away and being replaced by the sour pang of rejection. She knew it was unlike her, that he was probably just trying to do what she wanted – to leave without prolonging his time there – but she had thought… she had imagined they would move into her bedroom, indulge in something slow and toe curling before he departed. She shouldn't want him to stay, she never wanted him to stay, but tonight had felt different from the others.

"Yeah?" he asked quietly, his hand on the doorknob, his jacket slung over his arm.

But maybe it hadn't felt different for him at all.

She took a deep breath and…

"Just – thank you," she said instead, forcing a small smile and felt at least a little relieved when he smiled back.

"Anytime, Kate."


	4. 2x05: When the Bough Breaks

**_Takes place later in the night, after the fight at Castle's book party._**

* * *

_"So, you'd be okay if I didn't write another Nikki Heat?"_

_2x05: When the Bough Breaks_

* * *

She didn't angrily swing her front door open like he had expected her to when he showed up at her apartment once he managed to find the opportunity to slip away from his own book launch party. She didn't make any spiteful remarks or intimidate him into leaving with venomous threats. Instead, she merely cracked the door barely an inch and asked him why he was there in a voice that was too small and cracked and so not her.

Shit, had he…

Her eyes were bloodshot, her makeup smudged, and her hair had been released from its neat pinned back style and was now wild and tousled around her face.

Oh, he _had_.

He had hurt her. Again. Was this all he knew how to do when it came to this woman?

"Can I come in?" he asked gently.

"I'm not in the mood, if that's why you're here," she muttered darkly, but he quickly shook his head.

"No, no, I just - I'm sorry for what I said, at the party."

She looked unconvinced as he cautiously watched her through the slit of the door, her lips in a deep frown that he longed to kiss away.

"I was looking forward to having you there, even if you did refuse to be my date. I didn't even mention how beautiful you looked, did I?"

She scoffed, a barely discernable smirk at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah, well, I had been having a good time," she replied quietly, resting her temple against the doorjamb and staring back at him with a sadness that deflated him.

"I thought I was useless to you," he blurted, watching as her brow furrowed and she straightened up.

"Useless to me?"

Ever since his mother had mentioned how well off Kate probably was before he had come into her life, he had felt uncomfortably uncertain around her, filled with dread as he did his best to work alongside her without feeling as though this was their final case together. She had seemed awkward yet forcibly relieved when he had told her about his offer to write a certain British spy instead of Nikki Heat. And after their petty fight at his book launch party, he feared they really would be over. This was his only shot to try and fix things, or at least end what he had with her in an amicable manor.

"At the precinct," he clarified. "I know you did just fine in the past without me, but I had thought – I had hoped I was somewhat helpful, but then I realized I don't make much of a difference, and we all know you'd be thrilled to have me gone, so I figured taking the other offer would be best for everyone, but then-"

Beckett pressed her fingertips to his lips and his eyes jerked up from the ground to see her smiling gently at him. Once ensured he wouldn't ramble on any longer, she finally opened her door and allowed him inside.

"You aren't useless, Castle. Not to me."

He stumbled as he followed her in the general direction of her bedroom, a smile breaking across his face at the admission he had never imagined would come from her.

She was still wearing the dress from the launch party, the sinfully tight blue fabric still practically begging him to peel it away from her skin as it had been all night, down her body until she was beautifully bare, but he wanted to talk first.

"But did you mean what you said at the party? About needing a better writer?"

Kate's hands paused at the back of her neck, where she had been fiddling with the clasp of her delicate, silver chain, and turned slowly to meet his eyes, her own filled with hesitation.

"Did you mean what you said about the lack of character to Nikki Heat?" she countered, quiet but ready to turn accusatory if he said the wrong thing.

"No, there's so much character to her, I doubt I could ever capture it all with even a hundred books."

She softened a little at that, the tense set to her shoulders loosening and her body listing forward as if to move towards him, but she stayed planted where she was a few feet away.

"I think you could, Castle," she murmured, her eyes falling to her fidgeting fingers. "Maybe you already have. Maybe it's time you start conquering another character," she whispered and he felt his heart sink. He didn't want anyone else, he only wanted Nikki – no, Kate. He just wanted Kate.

"Whether or not I take this deal, I don't want to lose this," he insisted, already seeing the panic beginning to flare to life in her eyes like a cornered animal as they snapped up to see him advancing closer.

"Castle, we aren't-"

"Anything, yeah, I know," he filled in for her, unable to conceal the bitter way it came out. She surely knew he wanted more than this from her, with her, and he still wouldn't push her, but he wasn't going to pretend he was entirely content with the situation either. "I just meant that even if I were to stop writing Nikki Heat, I don't want that to mean I have to stop seeing you."

She was at a loss for words, staring up at him helplessly as he cautiously came to a stop once he was just a breath away from her, refraining from panicking at the idea of her ending this. Because he had decided that if she told him to go, this time he would. He would respect her wishes for once and bow out of her life.

But he really didn't want to follow through.

"Do you really want to give this up, Kate?"

"I'll screw it up," she rasped, biting down on her lip and tugging the abused, pink flesh between her teeth. "I always do, Rick. I'm not in a good place for a relationship right now."

"Well, neither am I," he said lightly, doing his best to keep the conversation somewhat casual, not too serious, but serious enough. He needed her to take him seriously for once. "I'm just asking for a chance, Kate. It can't hurt us to try."

She shook her head, disappointment that he was sure was aimed solely at herself turning her eyes a dimmed, lifeless amber.

"It actually can. It can hurt a lot."

Rick sighed and cupped her elbows, already feeling her slipping away. He had to convince her, he couldn't just let her believe they were hopeless.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

Kate's head tipped down, her forehead falling to his chest without her heels, and he gently allowed his hands to roam up her arms to her back, his fingers running up and down in a soothing motion while he listened to her breathe.

"I don't know if I'm ready yet."

He squared his jaw and swallowed hard. "But do you want to be?"

She seemed to be contemplating his question and he held his breath, feeling as though they were suspended on the brink of change. What she said could push them either way, over the edge to something great, or down the other side to disaster.

"Yes," she murmured, lifting her face and pressing her cheek to his throat.

"Then for now, we'll just stay the way we are," he assured her softly. "I can give you all the time you need to figure this out, Kate. Just don't make me go."

Her head tilted back and she spent a moment studying him, her eyes searching his face intently, and then resolution settled in her gaze, the irises sparking to life.

"Okay."

Or maybe they would simply remain balancing in between.

"You want to stay for a while?" she asked softly, almost shyly, her eyes flickering to her bed and back.

He kissed her in response, smiling against her mouth, because at least she wanted to try. At least she could give him the hope for more.

Kate's fingers flirted with the buttons of his shirt and he found the zipper to her dress, finally sliding it down and touching the warm skin waiting for him underneath.

_Get her out of your system_, Paula had said, but she didn't understand. No one, not even Kate, understood. She was in his system, flowing stronger than ever, and he couldn't get her out, couldn't fathom ever wanting to. She was addictive, like heroine shot into his veins, poisoning his bloodstream, and all he could think about was when he would get his next hit.

It wasn't about the books, or even the sex, it was just her. He just wanted her in his life and he would take her in any way she was willing to give. He did hope one day – one day soon – they could be more than just bodies coordinating together in acts of pleasure, but at least he had the opportunity to have her in such an intimate way, to learn new things of her he was sure she didn't even know she gave away. It gave them a chance to be more and he would hold onto that until he was proven wrong.


	5. 2x06: Vampire Weekend

_"I said costumes are mandatory. I mean, dress up. You know? Be a little scary."  
"Yeah, well, I was going for sexy."_

_2x06: Vampire Weekend_

* * *

"Enjoy the party, Detective?"

Kate's eyes darted to his mother and daughter across the room. All of the other guests had already departed, ghosts and goblins alongside witches and warlocks descending into the night together and leaving her alone with him in the safety of his loft with his family.

She elbowed him in the ribs, forced him to take a step back so that his chest was not pressed so firmly – and obviously – against her back. No one knew about them and no one could know, including the two redheads washing the punchbowl in the kitchen.

"It was fun, Castle, but I better get going now."

She moved to deposit the drink she had been nursing the entire night into the trash, but Castle's hand on her waist caused her to pause and look to him expectantly.

"I thought you might want to stay awhile," he said hopefully.

He had removed his faux mustache and rinsed the heavy coating of gel from the hair on his head as well, essentially changing him back from 19th century poet to modern day mystery writer once again. It was easy to say no to Edgar Allan Poe, not so much to Richard Castle.

She hesitated, actually considering staying the night in his home for once, but her eyes slid yet again to Alexis and Martha. She was using the girl's father and the older woman's son, and if they knew this, she was sure they wouldn't want her in their home at all.

"No," she answered quietly, patting him on the chest before turning on her heel.

He didn't try to hide his disappointment, openly pouting at her as she walked away from him and into the kitchen, where she bid Alexis and Martha farewell and received warm hugs and appreciation for coming from both of them.

"I'll walk you out," Castle announced, his palm coming to a familiar rest on the small of her back, and she let his hand remain there, even as she noticed his mother and daughter exchange a curious glance when they believed she wasn't looking.

"Thank you for coming," he told her with a sincere smile as he stood with her at the door and she stupidly smiled back at him.

Dammit, she really did wish she could stay. His bed was likely twice as large as hers with the most expensive - therefore most comfortable - sheets and bedding there was to offer. She could just picture him stretching her out and-

"You're thinking about it," he husked suddenly, jerking her from her horribly inappropriate thoughts and setting her porcelain cheeks aflame.

"No-"

"Your eyes got _dark_, Detective. Your pupils are dilated and your eyes are that golden color, the same color they turn when I put my-"

"_Castle_," she hissed, reaching forward to twist his ear, but he caught her wrist mid-grab and tugged her closer.

"If it's my mother and Alexis you're worried about, you shouldn't be," he assured her in a hushed tone. "Not that they need to know, but even if they did, they wouldn't judge."

"I am not letting your family, your _daughter_, know we have sex on a regular basis."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"I'm just going to go," she sighed, scraping a hand through her hair and fastening the belt of her trench coat. "I'll see you at work."

"Wait."

She growled under her breath when he curved his hand over her hip and proceeded to stop her from opening his front door, her only exit, yet again.

"I said _no_."

"I know, I'm kissing you goodbye," he said so matter-of-factly.

"I swear if you-"

It was too late, he had his mouth smudged against hers before she could make her getaway. His hands cradled her head, angling her upwards in a tactic she knew he used to deepen a kiss, to prolong the departure of her lips. She exhaled through her nose in halfhearted defeat and hooked her fingers around his forearms, traced her tongue along his bottom lip before she opened for him.

His tongue stroked the roof of her mouth, distracting her while one of his hands made a subtle attempt at trailing down from her neck to her collarbone, to slip under the flap of her coat, but before he could come close to victory, they were interrupted.

"Richard, are you still – oh my."

Kate jumped back so hard she collided with the coat closet's door behind her, covering her mouth with her hand and turning her head away from Martha in shame.

"Mother-"

"I'm sorry, darling. I truly didn't mean to interrupt," Martha apologized softly, laying a hand on Kate's shoulder in concern.

"No, no, it's fine," Kate got out, forcing herself to meet the older woman's sparkling eyes, the bright blue orbs that resembled the man's in front of her glinting with hidden amusement. "I'm sorry, Martha. I didn't mean-"

"Oh, c'mon, you two. What are you, teenagers? Goodness," Martha huffed in exasperation as she turned and sauntered back towards the kitchen she had come from. "Alexis is upstairs if you need her, Richard. Said she'd be studying for some presentation she had in the morning."

"Thanks, Mother," Castle called back, washing a hand down the side of his face and offering Kate an apologetic half smile. "Don't go yet, I'll be right back."

"Castle-"

He was gone before she could protest.

This was her chance; she could slip out now while he wasn't there to stop her. She could avoid all of this for the night, pretend everything was back to normal and she wasn't battling with feelings for him she had never anticipated having.

Kate peeked past the wall that hid her from the view of the kitchen, saw Martha was no longer to be found. Scanning the rest of the area, as far as she could see, no one lingered on the first floor anymore either. She glanced back to the front door, her chance at escape, and started towards his office instead.

She left the door ajar as she drifted inside, a clue for him to find her, and proceeded to make her way into his bedroom. While she knew how to locate it, Kate had never seen Castle's room before. He had offered to show it to her plenty of times in the last few weeks, and she was always tempted, but it was safer for them at her apartment. She had been right in her assumptions though, his bedroom was so much nicer. Warm and earthy with just the right amount of masculinity infused into the space.

She shed her trench coat, draped it over the armchair closest to the door, and detached the plush, green frog she had used to get back at Castle from the velcro bindings she had secured it with around the waist of her simple black dress. She stepped out of her black pumps too, flexed her toes on the clean, hardwood floor beneath her feet, and then she migrated towards his bed.

She didn't pull the covers back, didn't attempt to arrange herself in a seductive pose across his mattress, but sat comfortably in the center of his bed and took in her surroundings while she waited for him. She quickly found that she was comfortable here, that she could imagine herself residing here often. And it made her stomach flip queasily.

She had returned to her visual exploration of his space to distract herself from treacherous thoughts, was in the middle of a staring match with the canvas painting of a lion on the opposite wall, when he came inside.

Rick didn't notice her right away, his eyes downcast and a look of prominent disappointment claiming his face, and she realized she must have caused that. When he came back downstairs from presumably telling his daughter goodnight, he had expected to find her waiting for him at the front door where he had left her. And she hadn't been there. He thought she had left.

Without making a sound, Kate slipped from his bed, tiptoed over to where he stood at the entry of his closet with his back to her as he undressed from his Halloween costume. He had removed the historic overcoat, the high collared shirt, and had just pulled off the white undershirt he had worn underneath when she wrapped her arms around his waist, curled her fingers into the front of his pants.

Castle startled harshly, rocking them both, but when he looked down, he covered her hands with his own and brought one up to his lips, kissed her palm.

"You stayed," he whispered, that awestruck quality to his voice that she usually only heard after an especially amazing round in bed filling her senses like a soft caress.

She answered with a kiss to his bare shoulder, unhooked the front of his pants with her unoccupied fingers. Castle allowed her to push the slacks downwards and once he was standing in only his boxers, he turned, dawning a look of astonishment that made her skin flush as his eyes roved over what had been under her coat. There was a reason she had kept the garment on all night, only partially unbuttoned. The dress underneath fell more distinctly under the category of lingerie, satin and lined with lace along the edges that brushed the tops of her thighs.

"You wore a negligée to my Halloween party?" he gasped, equal parts aroused and giddy as he reverently placed his hands at her sides, trailed his palms down her curves.

"I told you, Castle," she whispered, leaning in to brush her lips at his ear. "I was going for sexy."

"You succeeded."

She yelped in surprise and locked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist when his hands slid under her thighs and hoisted her smoothly into his arms. He walked them to his bed, his eyes growing darker with each step as they seemed to linger on the swell of her breasts, and then at the last second he spun, so that he could sit on the edge of his mattress rather than lay her down as she had anticipated.

They both groaned at the weight of her in his lap, his erection pressing against her, making her impatient. Her fingers went for the lace edge stretched taut across her hips, but Castle knocked her away and caught the lace in his fingers, glided the fabric slowly up her body, purposely teasing her skin.

"I'm going to kill you if you don't hurry up," she growled, smirking when the lingerie was suddenly slipping over her head.

The negligée had had built in support, so she was left in only her underwear – naturally black and lacey to match the rest of her ensemble. Castle kept his arm around her waist as he scooted them up the bed and then he was falling to his back, taking her with him and staring up at her with a grin. Kate huffed a quiet chuckle before sitting back on his thighs, tracing him through his boxers and licking her lips in excitement. She eased the material down his legs, purposely scraping her nails over the tops of his thighs and tossed his underwear in the direction of his closet, towards the rest of his discarded clothes, and allowed hers to follow.

Placing her mouth to the bone of his hip, she nipped and sucked until she could feel the skin swelling under her tongue and then trailed a line with her lips across his flesh to the other, repeating the maddening action that had him hard and burning against her inner thigh.

"Beckett," he husked, but she ignored him, dragging her teeth over the skin of his navel.

His hips jolted, but she pinned him down with her hand, wrapped the other around his throbbing erection. She caught his gaze as her hand began to expertly explore well known territory, stroking him from base to tip, and held it as she lowered her mouth, closed her mouth around his head. He gritted his teeth, but fell back into a pillow as his fists clenched in the sheets. Her hand abandoned his hip to dust over one of the white assortment of knuckles and didn't shrug him off when the same hand slid into her hair.

She hummed to the symphony of strangled gasps and groans escaping his mouth as she took him deeper, relaxed her jaw and allowed his length to fill her mouth.

His hand stayed gentle in her hair, not yanking or controlling as she had unhappily experienced in the past. Instead his palm cupped her skull, his fingers just barely clenching in her locks before he would force himself to loosen his grip. He always managed to infuse a level of tenderness into whatever they were doing in the bedroom, and it made the arousal between her legs burn brighter, slowly becoming unbearable.

"God, Kate," he choked as she bobbed her head up and down, up and down, taking him as deep as she could and searing him with the swirl of her tongue. His hand moved to her shoulder, tugged hard, and she released him with a wet pop, his cock twitching at the sound. She arched an eyebrow at him in challenge and he forcefully hauled her forward until she was hovering above him.

Kate straddled his waist, so ready to sink down and finally have him inside her. She had been wet and aching and _burning _the entire night and she had almost missed this, almost abandoned him to escape home to her cold, empty apartment. Her hands settled on his chest, but Castle caught her hips before she could go any further, urged her upwards, up until her knees were on either side of his head and she was positioned directly above his face. And then he pulled her down.

Her teeth clamped down hard on her lower lip and her fingers curled into his headboard so tightly her knuckles instantly blanched as his tongue glided through her folds. His hands kneaded the muscles of her ass, coaxing her body into motion, and instinctively her hips rolled, and his mouth sucked and _oh god_. It was almost painful, how fast he had her seeing stars.

"Castle-" she could barely breathe, her heart on fire, her lungs bursting, all her senses in overdrive. _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ she was _not _going to last. "Can't - Rick, please, I _need_-"

Her thighs were quivering with the effort of being upright and suddenly, she was spinning, her fluttering eyes trying to focus on the ceiling as her heaving chest pressed against his. As if reading her mind, Castle had rolled her over, took a moment to stroke her hair from her face where it stuck to her forehead and met her eyes for confirmation before sinking into her at last.

She arched at the miraculous ability he possessed to hit her in just the right spot with so little trouble, how quickly he had learned the ways to pull the pleasure from her body with such ease. It amazed her, it terrified her, it drove her fucking crazy.

One of his hands slid under her knee, eased it upwards until it was bruising against his ribcage, but Kate lifted out of his grasp and locked both legs high at his waist, dug her heels into his ass to urge him as close as possible. He grunted her name, his voice choked and his body trembling – signs that he was just as close as she was – and with the hand that wasn't buried in his hair, she clutched at his ear, guided his mouth to hers.

"Don't stop," she gasped against his lips, on the edge of a sob as his thrusts grew sharper and her hips rose to meet his in an erotic dance.

It took one final slam of his body into hers for her to literally shatter around him, feeling her entire being momentarily seize before exploding into millions of pieces, barely registering his hand rising to cover her open mouth. Her lower body had kept rhythm against his until he followed her over the edge and slumped down on top of her.

Kate welcomed his weight, skating her fingers through his hair and mindlessly trailing her lips up his jaw to the shell of his ear.

"You've never been that loud," he murmured, carefully rolling onto his side.

"I forgot where we were," she breathed apologetically, praying neither of the upstairs residents of his loft had picked up on any of the noise that may have been coming from his bedroom.

"I doubt anyone heard," he sighed assuredly, dazedly, his fingers dancing along her side, over her stomach. "I do have to admit that I could care less at the moment though, because I really enjoy it when you're loud."

"Castle," she scolded, reaching for his fingers when they began traveling dangerously low. "I'm obviously not in the mood to be quiet tonight, so stop."

He pouted, but stretched his hand out across her flat abdomen instead, his palm a warm weight over her belly. She felt her eyes beginning to grow heavy and instinctively turned on her side, allowed him to drape the covers over them both.

"Not staying," she mumbled into the hollow of his throat, one of her favorite places to put her mouth. "Just resting."

"That's fine, Kate," he hummed into her temple, his arms encircling her back. "Take as long as you need."

* * *

When her eyes opened again, she knew it was late - too late – and panic instantly flooded her system. She was ensnared in Castle's arms, warm and safe and already battling with the temptation to simply drop her head back onto the pillow with his and drift back to sleep, but she carefully rolled onto her back instead, lifted onto her elbows until she could see the digital numbers of his alarm clock on the nightstand.

"Shit," she whispered.

It was five a.m. and she needed to go if she was going to make it back to her apartment in time to get ready for work.

She attempted to gently extricate herself from Castle's arms, to slide off of the soft sheets and out of his bed without waking him, but his brow furrowed at all the movement, and by the time she was finally free, his eyes were squinting open.

"Where?" he rasped.

"Home," she murmured, smoothing her fingertips along the defined angle of his jaw. Maybe it was the early morning hour, but allowing her eyes to study him for just a second, she wordlessly marveled at how beautiful he was, with his sharp features and rugged good looks, and the barely discernible wrinkles around his mouth, the laugh lines that only added to his appeal. He was adorably rumpled from sleep, but he was staring at her with clear, blue eyes, silently begging her not to go even though he knew it was pointless. She wasn't leaving to hurt him; maybe if she moved an extra pair of clothes here she could – no, _no_, what was she even thinking? "I'll see you at the precinct."

She ducked her head to kiss him, her fingers still stroking over his skin too affectionately, and he curled his hand around her nape, brushed his thumb over that sensitive spot behind her ear, and then let her pull away.

"Be safe," he sighed, dropping his hand and watching her dress through hazy eyes.

"Night, Castle," she grinned as his eyes slid closed.

Kate tiptoed out of his room, through the loft, and soundlessly out the front door.


	6. 2x07: Famous Last Words

_2x07: Famous Last Words_

* * *

They were standing amidst the crowd gathered in remembrance of Hayley Blue, swaying to her sister's serenade. Alexis laid her head on his shoulder and he smiled softly as he watched his daughter quietly singing along. Beckett was a pleasant warmth at his opposite side, closer than what would be acceptable for two people who were merely business associates, so he took a chance and looped his arm through hers, traced his fingers down to the inside of her wrist until they hovered at her palm.

The candle in her free hand wavered as she halted in her steady back and forth motion at his touch, but her hand opened to him, her fingers twined with his, and she resumed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He was the one who startled when her cheek pressed to his shoulder and her body tucked into his side. They didn't know anyone here aside from his mother and daughter. No one could call them out on what had strictly been private behavior. She never touched him - even so innocently like this - outside of their homes, always preaching about keeping their professionalism intact. But it had been a good day, justice had been served, a killer had been put behind bars, and she was apparently letting herself break the rules just for tonight. He couldn't imagine a better end to the evening.

He felt his mother's eyes resting on them from beside Alexis, a knowing quirk of her lips, but he pretended he hadn't noticed and squeezed Beckett's hand. She lightly squeezed back in acknowledgement and he wished he had pulled this little move earlier, the song was almost over and he knew his connection with her would soon be too.

As he predicted, the crowd erupted into cheers for Sky, calling for an encore even as the band behind her began to retire their equipment, and Beckett extracted herself from him, taking a step sideways and unfortunately slipping her hand from his. If it were not for his daughter right beside him, he would pout.

"Dad?" Alexis said once the crowd's excitement died down and the band on stage was packing up. "Could we go grab a bite to eat?"

"Of course," he grinned, smoothing her glistening red hair back and blowing out her candle. "Call the car service, we'll go wherever you want."

Alexis beamed back at him, lifted on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and retrieved her phone from her pocket, began conversing with Martha about where they should go.

He turned around to see Beckett staring down at her blown out candle, the smoke curling upwards towards the night sky and creating a thin screen of fumes in front of her face.

"Hey."

Her eyes snapped up and she offered him a shy smile at having been watched.

"Hey."

"We're going out to dinner." He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder to Martha and Alexis. "Would you like to come?" he asked hopefully, but her face fell and her eyes darted to the ground.

"I'd like to, Castle, but I actually need to get home."

The rejection surprised him with its intensity, hollowing him out on the inside in seconds. He knew it was asking a lot of her, to go out with his family and spend an evening together like they were something more, he knew it probably scared her, but it still hurt to be let down with a weak excuse.

"It's just us, Kate," he tried softly, catching the same hand that had been entangled with his only minutes ago, when he had felt as though they had taken a huge step forward. "Just dinner with my mom, my kid, and me."

She bit her lip, and for a moment he thought maybe she would actually change her mind, but his hopes were dashed and his eyes fluttered closed in disappointment as she checked over his shoulder before placing a regretful kiss to his cheek.

"I have a lot of paperwork to do," she sighed, staring down mournfully at the fingers curled around hers. "I'm sorry."

Kate stole her hand back, turned for the street, and headed for her Crown Vic without another word.

"Oh, what a pity, Detective Beckett isn't joining us?" Martha asked from behind him and he realized he had been watching her walk away like some lost puppy and quickly shook his head, turned his back on the retreating detective.

"She can't," he muttered, but quickly forced a smile as his daughter shoved her phone back into her coat pocket and started rattling on about a new restaurant she'd been dying to try on 57th and Lex.

Castle wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his daughter's natural exuberance aiding in replacing his smile and lightening his heavy heart.

* * *

Kate texted him the next afternoon while he was trying to decide what to prepare for dinner, asking him if he could come over. It was her day off and he didn't have to think too hard to imagine why she would want to spend even a portion of it with him. So he told her no.

And then she called him.

"Beckett, I'm busy tonight," he huffed as he stood in front of his open refrigerator, because if she could make petty excuses, he could too, right?

"You don't have to stay long, Rick. I just wanted to talk," she explained, her voice tentative on the other end of the line and he rubbed at his eyes. They never talked for long.

"I can't stay over long, I'm spending the evening with Alexis," he lied. Alexis was spending the night at her friend Lauren's.

"That's fine, I promise I won't keep you."

She hung up and he buried his face in his hands.

"What's wrong, darling?"

He didn't lift his head at his mother's voice swooping through the room as she sashayed past him towards the wine rack.

"Nothing, Mother," he sighed, feeling tired all of the sudden. "I just have to go out, but I'll be back soon."

"Tell Detective Beckett I said hello," she smirked and his eyes shot up at her in surprise.

"Were you listening in on my phone call?" he questioned, but she waved him off.

"Don't be ridiculous. You think I don't know where you're off to every other evening? Or why you sometimes sneak in late in the middle of the night? Or that I don't remember _who _you were kissing last week at your little Halloween bash?" Martha asked with quirked eyebrows, looking so utterly pleased with herself. "Don't worry, I won't say anything," she assured him, and he hadn't even been worried about his mother blabbing to anyone, until now anyway. "I'm honestly thrilled you finally kissed that girl while you're both still young."

Normally, he would be grinning from ear to ear despite himself at the mere thought of kissing Kate, but tonight, he couldn't muster anything more than a halfhearted shrug.

"Uh oh, trouble in paradise?"

Castle glanced up to see his mother watching him expectantly, a touch of parental concern sneaking into her eyes as she waited for him to spill like he always did.

"I'm afraid I'll always care about her more than she cares about me," he murmured quietly, confessing the words aloud causing his heart to shrivel up inside his chest.

"I know Detective Beckett is not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, Richard, but from what little I've seen, that girl does care about you," Martha told him seriously, but he shook his head.

"How would you know?"

"When a woman is in love, it shows," Martha answered confidently, but he was stuck on the 'in love' part and the way it made the blood rush through his ears.

But no, no way was his mother even close to being correct on this one.

"She isn't in love with me," he mumbled.

"Just because she hasn't said so doesn't mean it isn't true, sweetheart. But if you really believe not, then why are you going to see her tonight?"

His mother arched her eyebrow pointedly, but he didn't have the courage to say it.

Castle raked a hand through his hair and started towards the door. He really did not want to discuss his relationship with Beckett any further with his mother. It just made things even more confusing. "I'll see you in about an hour."

"I won't wait up," she grinned, taking a satisfying sip from her wine glass.

* * *

He hadn't been as happy as he usually was on his way to Kate's apartment. He didn't _want _to feel so bitter about her refusing to go to dinner with him last night, it really wasn't that big of a deal, but it had stung and he just needed some time to lick his wounds in private. He had been hoping to avoid her for at least 24 hours, but apparently he couldn't resist coming when she called.

But his resentment seemed to melt away when he arrived at her apartment and Kate opened her door.

"Beckett?"

"Hey," she smiled softly, opening the door wider for him to come in, wide enough to reveal her attire for the evening. She was in a dress, a cocktail dress with a pair of sleek, black stilettos he had never seen her wear while on the job. Her hair was done in loose curls that framed her face, her makeup subtly darker than the daily look she wore to the precinct, and… she had dressed up for him?

"What's going on?" he asked in confusion, his eyes stuck on the low cut, black fabric clinging to her skin. He felt terribly underdressed in his jeans and v-neck sweater.

"I know I hurt you last night," she replied quietly, her eyes falling to her feet, but rising again with a strange determination igniting them once more. "And that wasn't my intention, but I just - I wasn't ready, Castle. I know this won't automatically fix that, but I thought we could have dinner here tonight?"

She had _made_ him dinner? Is that was that delicious smell wafting through the air was?

"You - you made dinner?"

She grinned. "I know it may come as a surprise, but I'm actually a pretty good cook."

Moving deeper into her apartment, he saw she had in fact prepared a well-cooked meal. Her stovetop was occupied with an assortment of pots and pans, her counter littered with utensils and ingredients. She had even arranged her dining room table to fit a formal setting – plates and silverware neatly set in front of two chairs, two wine glasses gleaming and waiting to be filled, a couple of candles flickering in the middle of the mahogany surface.

"I made chicken parmesan with a side of rice and green beans," she explained, her heels clicking on the wood floors as she came back from the kitchen with a familiar bottle of red wine. "But I also have a couple of baked potatoes in the oven if you-"

Castle caught her by the back of her neck and fused his mouth to hers, gratitude pouring from his lips because she had done all of this for him. It wasn't her style, wasn't something he could ever picture her doing for anyone, but she had felt bad for hurting his feelings last night so she had cooked him a dinner to make up for the one she had backed away from. Gestures mattered to him, and she knew that.

"Working up an appetite?" she murmured against his lips and he ran his fingers through her hair, nudged his nose into hers.

"I'm starving, Beckett."

She chuckled, scratched at his jaw and opened her eyes, her lashes tangling with his. And it shouldn't have been surprising at all that he felt the 'I love you' swelling in his throat, flirting on the tip of his tongue. Shit. He loved her. He loved her a lot. He wasn't supposed to-

"Castle?" she said his name quietly as gentle concern colored her eyes a soft hazel. He could barely believe this was the same woman he had met over a year ago.

"Mind if I stay for dessert as well?"


	7. 2x11: The Fifth Bullet

_2x11: The Fifth Bullet_

* * *

"Have CSU check the coat for gunpowder residue, blood, fibers. Maybe it can tell us what happened that night. And check photo IDs on Fink's artists and clients," Beckett instructed the boys, listing each task on her fingertips.

"Think he might be one of them?" Ryan queried, referring to the currently anonymous Jeremy Preswick, who was sitting in the conference room with the psychiatrist that had dropped by to see if he could help the man recover his identity, his memory, _something_.

"A girl can dream," Beckett quipped, rising from her desk only to be met with Castle slamming straight into her, hot liquid from the two cups of coffee he had been holding sluicing down the front of her blouse and drenching her from her chest to her abdomen.

His eyes grew wide and immediately fell to land on the soaked through, white shirt clinging to her skin.

"I brought you coffee," he said by way of explanation, his eyes failing to move, only growing darker by the second, and he needed to get ahold of himself before he gave too much away to the very curious Ryan and Esposito.

"Thank you, Castle," she muttered, holding the coffee-stained fabric out and away from her skin. He was lucky she didn't care for this shirt.

When she glanced up at him again, he was still gawking at her, as if he didn't _know _what was underneath the sodden material. The boys were becoming increasingly intrigued, so she shoved him out of her path and growled to him as she passed, "Stop staring and meet me in the locker room in five minutes."

* * *

Kate shrugged out of her ruined blouse in the thankfully empty locker room, frowning at the light brown stains smearing the cups of pale pink lace covering her breasts. It would have to do for the rest of the day. She unfortunately failed to keep a backup bra at the precinct.

Striding to the showers located between the gym and locker room area, she approached one of the sinks, carefully eased the chain with her mother's ring from around her neck and ran the necklace under the water to wash away any sticky residue from the coffee. She sighed to herself as she dried it off with a paper towel and tucked the jewelry deep into the pocket of her slacks. Castle usually took it off for her, unless they were too impatient, but in all the times they had been together, he had never mistreated her prized possession. He would always delicately slide the chain from her neck, knowing its worth to her, and place it neatly on the nearest safe surface. And then he would reverently kiss her sternum where the ring had rested between her breasts.

She had never allowed another man to be so personally intimate with her before, to know her heart as well as he knew her body. Will had been aware of the ring's importance, but she'd never told him the real story behind it, never let him touch it. She had always been the one to take it off.

She was assessing the extra shirt she had hanging in her locker, a turtleneck she wasn't necessarily excited to slip into, when she felt his hands smooth along her bare waist, converging at her abdomen to brace his fingers over her stomach.

"I swear I didn't do it on purpose," Castle explained the moment she spared him a glance over her shoulder.

She was aware he hadn't planned to drench her in coffee, but instead of answering, she merely tugged on one of the hands from her waist and towards the showers on the opposite side of the room.

"Just help me get cleaned up and I'll consider forgiving you," she murmured huskily, evoking a flash of excited lust in his eyes as she pulled him into the small tiled space and yanked the cheap, plastic curtain closed once they were both inside.

Castle wasted no time placing his open mouth to the bare expanse of her chest that had been flavored with her favorite beverage, the heat of his tongue on her flesh eliciting a familiar spark of electricity that she knew would only intensify until it ultimately decimated them both. She clenched her thighs to try and null her anticipation.

Kate's fingers fell into his hair out of habit, clawed at his scalp and urged him on as he licked and suckled and scraped at the swell of her breasts. She reached around for the clasp of her bra, unhooked it and allowed Castle to do the rest. He guided each strap down her arm with his teeth, but once her breasts were free of the lingerie, he cupped her in his hands, lowered his head to take her right nipple into the inferno of his mouth.

She gasped and instinctively hooked a leg around his thigh, jerking his knee between her legs as he sucked on the puckered flesh in his mouth and teased her left breast with the pads of his calloused fingers, and oh _yes,_ this was exactly what she needed.

Castle groaned quietly, the vibrations of the sound sending a shudder down her spine, as she rocked into his knee, and moved his mouth to her other breast, treating it with the same attentive indulgence, and she arched forward at the arrow of heat shooting straight from her nipples to her core. He was going to make her come from the way he pleasured her upper body alone.

But then suddenly his hand was sliding beneath her slacks, his palm burning her abdomen as it pressed flat against her skin and glided down until his fingers were emerged in the pool of her arousal.

"You're so wet," he breathed, his teeth clamping around the stiff peak of her nipple and she couldn't control the keening noise it evoked, had to bite her lip so hard she tasted blood to keep it from slipping out again. "Mm, Kate."

"Time," she gasped, remembering where they were and how they had to return to the bullpen, separately but soon. She frantically clawed at his pants. "Have to hurry."

Castle batted her hands away and unbuckled his belt, pushed his slacks to his knees and repeated the action with hers, only drawing one leg free. She wrapped it high at his waist and curled her hand around his erection, already so hot and heavy in her palm just from touching her, and stroked him a few times until he impatiently bit down on the straining tendons of her neck. She plucked the condom from the pocket inside his blazer – for situations just like this – and rolled the latex onto him with practiced skill.

She guided him inside with ease, her body already prepared for him to fill her, and she moaned breathlessly as her head fell back against the cool tile, a wonderful contrast to the fever of her skin.

Castle placed one hand at her thigh to keep her steady as they hastily found their tempo and Kate arched up on the ball of her foot to meet him thrust for thrust. With his unoccupied hand still palming at her breast, she felt her walls fluttering within minutes, release only moments away, but then she heard the door to the locker room swing open and they both stuttered to a stop.

Kate cut her nails into his shoulder at the unbearable throb of her muscles around him and tried to make herself breathe easy.

"Beckett?"

Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat.

"Yeah, Ryan?"

"Are you okay in here? You've been gone a while and the psychiatrist wanted to speak with you about our memory loss guy."

"I'm fine, I was just taking a quick shower to rinse off the coffee," she explained, her voice surprisingly steady, but then Castle had to go and put his mouth to her throat and suck on her skin because he _knew_ she had that damn turtleneck to cover up the mark he wanted to leave, and she jerked back against the tile, suppressing a whine. "But I'll be out in just a minute."

"I'll let Espo know," Ryan called back, seeming oblivious to anything out of the ordinary. "Oh, and do you know where Castle went? He disappeared after you and we haven't seen him since."

Kate bit her lip and trailed her index finger down the muscles of Castle's abs, silently marveling at the way they subtly rippled under her fingertip, and followed the thin line of hair that led down to where they were joined.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah, he came to apologize and I sent him to the dry cleaners, to see if he could get the stain out of my shirt," she threw out the excuse and kept her gaze on Castle's eyes as they waited to hear if Ryan would fall for it.

"I'm sure Castle will take it to the best place he can find. If not, just have him buy you a new one," Ryan suggested with a chuckle and Kate and Rick shared a silent sigh of relief.

"Don't worry, I'll definitely make him pay for it," she smirked, regretting it when she saw Castle's eyes flare.

Ryan chuckled lightheartedly again, sounding farther away now. "I'll let you finish up."

She made some noncommittal noise in response that was followed by a harsh grunt as Castle jerked her thigh higher and deepened the angle of his length inside her.

"You say something, Beckett?" Ryan's voice suddenly filled the locker room again and Beckett wanted to bash her head into the shower tile.

"No," she tried to say evenly. "Just bumped my arm."

"Oh, are you okay?"

"Yes, Ryan, just let me get dressed, okay?" she said quickly, internally feeling bad for brushing off the fellow detective's natural concern, but she was too far gone to care.

"I'm going, I'm going," she heard him grumble, and then finally, they heard the door slam closed.

"Move," she demanded in a ragged whisper, her hips thrashing against his in dirty little circles, the friction between them increasing, and Castle didn't hesitate, moving in short, sharp thrusts that drag her over the edge with him in seconds.

She shuddered violently though the aftershocks that plagued her body, her orgasm still rippling through her with intense tremors. Castle held her up, even as she felt his thighs quivering with the effort of keeping himself alone upright.

"We need to go," she rasped, even though every part of her protested against the idea of getting dressed and going back to work in this very moment. She'd rather turn the shower on and rub her slick body along his until they were both delirious. Maybe she already was.

Castle sighed, unlocking his knees and gently untangling her thigh from around his, lowering her tingling limb to the ground with care. He slid out of her attentively, watching her face, and she grit her teeth through it, her body already missing his, and they both took a second to rest against the humidly warm tile walls.

"Wait," he mumbled when she moved to push the shower curtain open. She looked to him curiously, but Castle only slanted his mouth over hers, kissed her briefly but with his tongue firmly in her mouth.

She couldn't help but hum as he released her, leading her out of the stall and towards her locker on shaky legs.

He tasted like coffee.


	8. 2x12: A Rose For Everafter

**_Set the day after Castle's night on a rooftop with Kyra Blaine..._**

* * *

_"__You work side by side every day. He writes a sex scene in his book about you that had me reaching for ice water. Now Little Miss Bride shows up. Don't tell me you're not the least bit jealous."_

_2x12: A Rose For Everafter _

* * *

When he made his way to her desk with two coffees in hand, she felt her stomach twist into knots. One look at her and she knew he would sense it, sense that she knew what he had done the night before. So she bit the bullet and said it without preamble as soon as he reached her desk.

"You went to see her last night."

And shit, it hurt to acknowledge it. It was jealousy and inferiority and vicious hurt all rolled into one because how could she ever compare to Kyra Blaine, the one that got away?

Why did it even matter to her?

He nodded, silently taking a seat in his chair, and it made her feel even worse.

"You kissed her," she added, quieter and lowering her gaze.

"I did," he sighed, the guilt laced heavy in his voice. "But that's all that happened."

Anger bubbled at his attempted reassurance, because really, that did not make her feel any better. She caught Esposito waving a file from his desk and she found it best she get some space from Castle before she exploded.

"For now," she muttered, under her breath but loud enough for him alone to hear, and lifted from her seat, strode over to Ryan and Esposito before he could say any more.

* * *

Kate watched through the glass as Kyra leant forward, placed a sweet kiss on Castle's cheek, and she longed for indifference, wished more than anything for the ability to not care that the man she shared her bed with was receiving an innocent kiss from his ex. But then said ex was coming out of the break room, towards her desk, and Kate scrambled to look as though she had not been watching the whole exchange from her workstation.

Kyra Blaine stood patiently a few feet away, waiting until Kate hesitantly shifted her gaze up from the files scattered across her desk to speak.

"He's all yours," she said with a smile, so genuine and kind, that Kate couldn't help but offer a tentative smile back.

She even found herself believing the words.

"So, Beckett," Castle came up behind her once the elevator doors slid closed on the love of his past. "Want to be my date to the wedding tomorrow?"

Scanning the mostly empty bullpen, Kate rose from her office chair and discretely hooked her index finger with his, hustled them through the homicide floor towards the service stairs. He whispered questions as she led him down three flights until she knew they were between the lobby floor and storage and could be sure that no one else would be coming down the dimly lit stairwell after them.

"Kate? What's going on? I-"

Beckett cupped his face in her hands and surged up on her toes to kiss him. His hands landed instinctively on her waist, holding her but not confining her, and she separated their mouths after only a few seconds to smile in the darkness.

"What was that about?" he whispered, soft awe in his voice and a smile spreading over his lips as he bumped his nose with hers.

She shrugged nonchalantly, looped her arms around his neck. "I'm just - I wanted to kiss you."

Well, she definitely could have thought out her reasoning a little better, or at least made up a less pathetic excuse.

His huge grin brushed over her mouth and she found her own lips itching to mimic his and share the smile.

"I heard what she said, you know."

The urge to smile quickly faded.

"She left the door open," he explained gently, feeling her stiffen against his body. "And it's true. I'm aware I didn't prove it these past few days, but there isn't anyone else. Only you."

God, what had they done? What had _she _done? He was committing to her and that _was not_ what they were supposed to be doing. They were falling too easily into the roles of a relationship and she had sworn that would not happen when they had started this.

But despite it all, she still felt relieved at his admission, his promise.

"Take me home," she rasped, tilting her chin upwards and finding his mouth again, letting his tongue sweep past her lips and into the cove of her mouth.

Her rules on their relation- arrangement were falling apart and it was crucial she find a way to get them back on track, but for now, she didn't want to think. She just wanted him to kiss her until she couldn't think straight at all.

Especially if she was going to a wedding with him tomorrow.

* * *

Castle picked her up at her apartment the next day after she had reluctantly agreed to accompany him to Kyra's wedding, told her she looked beautiful in her dove grey slacks and pretty pink blouse. Kyra had told them she wanted the dress code to be casual this time around, but Kate was still contemplating running back to her closet and slipping into a dress instead.

"Is everything okay?" Rick asked as she was locking up her apartment and she nodded silently, doing little to reassure him. Everything _was_ fine. They were going to his ex love's wedding together and there was really no reason for her to feel uncomfortable or uncertain of where she stood with him.

But dammit, she did.

"Still mad at me?"

She huffed. "I wasn't mad. I'm _not _mad."

"Untrusting of me?" he tried, a little quieter as they walked down the hall, towards the stairs of her building because the elevator was always too slow.

"I don't… I don't know," she replied honestly, digging her nails into the clutch of her purse, because they were going out on what could easily be considered their first date and she had been looking forward to it, despite how much she had tried not to, and she didn't want to ruin it with her stupid insecurities.

"How do I fix it?" he said suddenly, coming to a halt at the mouth of her stairwell and circling around to stand in front of her, looking to her with a plea and determination mixed in his eyes.

He was ready to do whatever it would take to prove he was over Kyra and she slumped back against the wall. She felt silly, like some jealous little girl whose crush loved someone else, when in reality, he was standing right in front of her, happily ready to take her to his ex-girlfriend's wedding, so proud to have her as his date. He had kissed someone else, it nagged at her, but even Kate could admit it had appeared to be a farewell kiss – a final seal to the end of their story. Castle had even explained the night before that the spark was no longer there for them. She had no reason to feel threatened.

"Do you want to skip the wedding? We could go to dinner instead, or to my place, or to a movie. Ooh, a movie with dinner at my place-"

"Rick," she said softly and he closed his mouth, a worrisome frown claiming his lips. "You don't have to do anything. I'll be fine, I'm just…" She shrugged, but he seemed to understand, stepping in closer and tentatively placing his hands on her hips.

"I understand if it's what happened on the rooftop," he said quietly and her eyes lowered in shame, because that's exactly what it was. "I really do, Beckett. When Sorenson came around and kissed you, I sulked for days."

A startled laugh bubbled past her lips and his eyes lit up at the sound, but he remained serious as he continued.

"I'd be… _furious_ if I had seen you kissing someone else," he admitted quietly, but his eyes grew distinctively dark, a look in them she had seen before when other men flirted with her. "So I get it, but please know that I meant what I said yesterday. The only person I want to be kissing is you."

She felt her cheeks heat up and Kate smiled back at him. Any uncertainty and indignation the surveillance photos from yesterday had given her slowly slipping away.

"Likewise, Castle."

* * *

She couldn't believe he had convinced her to dance with him, yet it shouldn't surprise her at all. After he had mercilessly teased her about the catching of the bouquet, and after she had smacked him with it, they had spent their time at the open bar, sharing drinks and conversation, but then he had asked her to dance and she had said yes with far too little hesitation. And now she was pleasantly buzzed from the rich champagne, swaying with him to some slow, love song with his arms around her waist and her head on his shoulder.

"Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"No one we know is here. Kyra and Greg already left for their honeymoon."

Her brow knitted at his random observation and she lifted her head to see him watching her hopefully.

"So?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Kate grinned and scraped her fingers through the fine hairs at the base of his skull.

"Since when do you ask for permission, Castle?"

He pressed his upturned lips to hers.

* * *

When they arrived at her apartment, she didn't wait to kiss him, to run her hands over his chest and unbutton his shirt with her dancing fingers. Castle cupped her head in his hands, his fingers roaming through the soft locks of her hair, down the flowing material of her blouse until he reached the hem. Kate wordlessly lifted her arms and allowed him to ease the top over her head, the fabric hitting the floor with a quiet whisper.

She led him towards the bedroom by their loosely entwined fingers once he was in only his boxers and she had nothing more than her bra and the lace thong she had worn specifically for this moment. She was the one to remove the underwear from her body though, while he did the same before unhooking her bra and sitting down on her bed.

Kate held onto his shoulder as she crawled into his lap and maneuvered her legs to wrap around his waist. Castle turned his face into her neck, holding his breath when his tip brushed against her folds. Her forehead dropped to his and she nodded, her hands curled at his neck while his curved over her ass, moved upwards to grip her hipbones as he entered her.

He caught the whimper that escaped past her lips with his, kissing her deeply as her hips rocked into his and his length glided inside her. She reached for the bedframe with one hand, used her grip for leverage as she lifted and sank back down to him with a rotation of her hips. Castle's hands skimmed up her back and clung to her shoulders, sealing her body to his while his open mouth traveled the column of her throat as her head tipped backwards.

There was a certain finesse to their movements tonight; the synchronization of their bodies effortless, the roll of her hips more powerful, each thrust heightened by the words he was whispering into her skin. The intense, unhurried buildup leading to a slow burn that washed over her from head to toe, had her sobbing quietly into his shoulder as she clung to him through wave after wave of pleasure. She listened to the soft groan of her name as his own orgasm crashed over him seconds later, his fingers bruising against her back and his short rasps of air in her ear.

They were always good together,_ so_ good, every time special and satisfying in its own way, but tonight she had felt the shift, knew things between them had ultimately changed. She could hardly feel disappointed.

Kate nudged her nose into his, welcomed him with a sigh when he laid brief claim to her mouth and then eased onto his back. She slid off of him, to his side, and he turned to her, placed his hand lightly on her cheek, as if expecting her to knock it away. So she brushed her lips to his palm before sitting up, stretching over him to flick the bedroom lamp off and tug the wrinkled sheets over their bodies.

Castle opened an arm to her in offering and Kate didn't hesitate like she normally would, usually protesting this kind of intimacy after sex, but scooted into him instead, let him wrap her in his arms and threw one of her legs across his thigh. The satiated hum of approval he released into her hair made her smile, nuzzle her face into his cooling skin.

"Stay with me," she whispered into the side of his throat and he buried his hand in her hair, molded her body deeper into his.

"I'll stay," he brushed the words across her forehead and she allowed her eyes to drift closed, the weight of his arm around her waist and the lazy motion of his hand tracing up and down the ladder of her spine sending her off into the blissful sea of sleep.

She almost missed the 'I love you' he breathed into her skin.


	9. 2x13: Sucker Punch

**_A/N: Due to length, this episode will be split into two chapters._**

**_Takes place after Beckett learns Jack Coonan's killer is the same person who murdered her mother._**

* * *

_"I will do anything that you need, including nothing, if that's what you want."_

_2x13: Sucker Punch_

* * *

After their meeting with Lanie and Dr. Clark Murray, after she had stormed out of the conference room, out of the precinct and away from him, he ended up at her apartment, waiting outside when his knocks on the door went unanswered. Just like that first night that had started all of this, them.

"Castle?"

He glanced up from the floor of her hallway, ready to rise, but she squatted down in front of him before he found the chance.

"How long have you been here?" she asked quietly, her voice sounding raw and scraping at his pounding heart. He had expected anger, not teary, almost welcoming, concern. At least he knew how to handle anger. Sort of.

"Not long," he lied.

"I went to your place. Martha said you'd told her you were with me. I was afraid you'd - that something…" Her sentence trailed and as the meaning of her fears sank in and he grew to understand the reasoning behind the almost frantic distress in her dark eyes, he quickly shook his head.

"No, I'm fine, Kate," Rick promised, standing up, bringing her with him and wrapping her in his arms, holding her until her breathing steadied and he was sure the choked quality to her voice was gone. "I didn't know where you'd gone after you left the Twelfth, and your phone was off, so I just decided to wait here."

She made an unsteadying noise in the crook of his neck, some sorrowful sound caught between a whine and a whimper, and he squeezed her tighter, not knowing what to do, what to say. The last time he had seen her this raw, this torn up over the exact same case, she had kicked him out of her life and the only hint he had seen of her pain was when she was naked in his arms as they had sex in her kitchen three months later.

"You always wait for me," he heard her whisper and his brow furrowed in confusion, but she pulled back, reined it all in too quickly for him to comment. "I was with my dad. He made me realize that I want the truth. I want to find my mother's killer," she said resolutely and Castle offered her a proud smile, squeezed his hands around her biceps encouragingly.

"Well, then we need to break Johnny Vong."

"We do and we will, but first, you need to eat something, Rick," she said quietly, reaching past him to unlock her door and ushering him through the entrance.

"This usually goes the other way around," he huffed as she herded him into her kitchen.

She ignored his quip, dug around in her fridge until he saw her retrieve a familiar looking box of takeout from a dinner they had shared a couple of nights ago.

She held the styrofoam up to him. "This okay?"

He nodded. Even though he would probably eat anything she offered him, he really wouldn't mind leftovers from the expensive Italian restaurant he and Kate both favored.

Kate put her coat away while his dinner heated up in the microwave and his eyes reflexively stayed on her, the sight of her in a soft purple sweater and jeans with her hair in a low bun still captivating after all this time. She looked soft and warm and he wanted to hold her again, brush the bangs and loose strands of hair escaping along her cheeks from her face and watch her smile at the action.

He had seen her dressed down in comfortable clothing plenty of times now, but seeing her in a way he never would have had the privilege to in the past steadfastly continued to completely steal his attention and force him deeper into the sea of affection he was helplessly drowning in.

"Stop staring," she sighed, moving back into the kitchen, stepping past where he had remained planted against the counter, and removing the container from the microwave a second before the appliance could beep.

"Kate."

She was rifling through her silverware drawer, retrieving a fork and placing it atop the styrofoam, sliding it towards him.

"Kate."

"Don't," she said when he bypassed his dinner and crowded her into the corner, a sharp sense of déjà vu snapping through his system. But so much had changed since the last time he had pressed his body to hers in her kitchen.

Just as last time though, she was barely holding it together, her eyes glossed over with a sheen of unshed tears and a tired desperation lining the creases in her brow. "Castle."

His hands cupped her face, thumbs feathering gentle and attentive along the papery thin skin beneath her eyes, catching the salty liquid that finally tumbled free. A rough whimper clawed its way out, and then another, until she was crying, gasping for breath as she fell into the circle of his arms.

Her fingers hooked in the powder blue fabric of his dress shirt and Castle cradled her body as it shook with the shudders of her choked sobs.

"I don't know how to do this," she croaked, her breath hot and stuttering against his neck.

Castle smoothed a hand through her hair, kept his palm at her nape, trying to refrain from whispering inane words of comfort in her ear because he knew she didn't want them. Instead, he told her the truth.

"You're not in this alone. I'm here this time. I won't let you drown in it, Kate."

Her head lifted from his shoulder and he wiped delicately at the mascara staining her cheek. She swallowed thickly, lifted trembling fingers to rest at his cheek while she slowly searched his face with heavy eyes until she finally nodded.

"I know."

Castle didn't deny her when she tilted her head upwards, parted her lips and waited for his to meet them. It was surprisingly one of the sweetest kisses he had ever received from her, soft and slow instead of fast and desperate as he had expected. And he swore it felt like she was pouring more than just gratitude into the movement of their mouths. For a second, he almost believed she might love him back.

* * *

The next day, he got himself taken hostage, apprehended by Coonan and the gun pressing into his lower back like an idiot. And when Montgomery blocked their path to the exit, Coonan's demanded chance at escape, he knew it was over. There was no way Dick was walking out of this building and no chance he would give Kate the answers she so desperately craved, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He threw his head back and into the guy's face.

Castle staggered into the wall, saw Kate's eyes flash with panic before she automatically raised her gun and put a round in Coonan's chest.

A wave of silence passed over the bullpen after the gunshot resounded through the floor, and then Beckett was flying to him, imploring if he was okay and demanding paramedics even as she rushed to Coonan's bleeding form on the ground, tried to force the life back into his body with the pump of her hands against his heart.

When it was apparent the man had gone, he gently pried her away from Coonan's dead body, kept his hand on her back as she attempted to push her hair back with her wrist and get ahold of her breathing, but the tears refused to cease, so she quickly rose and hurried down the hallway without a word.

* * *

Kate had retreated to the bathrooms. He knew she had gone to clean and collect herself, to wash the blood from her hands and let the moisture spill from her eyes without an audience, but she had been gone for over ten minutes and it was making him anxious, so of course he went into the women's bathroom after her. And that was how he found her, crumpled on the floor next to the sink, slumped against the wall, her hands in fists as they scrubbed at the thigh of her jeans with a wet paper towel, her fingers still colored with fading red smears.

Oh, Kate.

Knowing she was fragile in that moment, so breakable and ready to crack, he approached her carefully and wordlessly coaxed her shaking body up from the floor. He walked her to the sink with his hands on her shoulders, ran the water until it was warm enough to place her hands under, and held her up when she started to crumble again.

"Rick," she croaked and he reached for the faucet, cut the water off and backed away to give her the space to turn around. Her damp hands rose to clutch at the collar of his shirt and she tugged him down to steal his mouth.

It was frantic and brutal and needy, her lips bruising and sorrowful against his, but he kissed her back until she was pressed against the sink, and then he broke away for air.

"Castle," she moaned at the loss, but he slipped his hand into her hair, cupped the side of her face in his palm.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered quietly, unthinkingly, wiping at the tearstains on the plains of her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Her glistening eyes, still hazy with despair, flickered with a light that broke through the overwhelming grief and she tucked her head under his chin all of the sudden, pressed her cheek to his sternum and held tight to him.

Castle tentatively cupped her shoulders in his palms, unsure of her and what thoughts could be racing through her mind. He would do whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, whatever he could to make it better and not worse. No worse than he already had.

"Your head," she whispered suddenly, pulling back, her hand rising to skim along his skull until he winced when she found her mark. "Ice-"

"I'm fine," he swore, although the middle of his skull was still throbbing and ice did sound like an enticing idea, but it could wait, he could wait.

She didn't believe him, even through the sheet of emotions still clouding her vision, he knew she saw the pain hiding in his.

"Then take me home, Castle. Your home."

He hadn't expected the request, but nodded immediately, before she could change her mind. She gently withdrew and started for the bathroom door, waiting for him to make it to her side before letting it swing closed.

They bypassed her desk with their heads down, going straight for the elevators without looking back, and when the doors slid closed, she caught his hand, tangled their fingers and squeezed in a form of appreciation he didn't deserve before releasing him as the elevator opened into the lobby.

* * *

She let him drive her Crown Vic to his loft, which made his anxiety climb even higher, but when they made it to his building, she seemed better, calmer and less broken than she had appeared in the precinct bathroom.

She gave up all pretenses of distance on the elevator ride up to his floor, her cheek falling to his shoulder, her hand clutching weakly at the back of his jacket, and Rick twined his arm around her waist in return, kept it there even as they walked the hallway to his door. He escorted her inside and took her leather jacket for her, hung it in the coat closet while making a mental note to have it dry-cleaned. She had managed to remove most of the blood from the edges of her sleeves, but he knew she would want it thoroughly rid of any trace of the crimson reminder.

Her shirt on the other hand… There was likely no salvaging the soft maroon blouse. Same with the jeans she had worn that day. The blood had set into the fabric and despite the valiant attempt she had made at scrubbing it out, he could still see the smear of copper above her right knee.

"Richard, you're home early! I just-" His mother paused mid sentence at the sight of Kate at his side and he suddenly feared bringing her here had been a mistake, that his family would overwhelm her with attempts to console that she was not at all familiar with. "Oh, kiddo."

Martha stepped forward and embraced Kate, not at all concerned with the bloodstains on her shirt or pants, only with the red rims of her eyes and the grief consuming her face, and surprisingly Kate hugged his mother back, sank into the older woman's embrace without even a moment of tension or hesitation.

He loved them both a little more in that moment.

"Are you all right?"

Kate forced a weak smile and nodded as his mother drew back. "I will be. We just had a rough day," she explained softly.

"Well, it's almost dinner time. I'll cook us up some comfort food," Martha announced with a decisive finger rising to the air, but Castle interjected quickly that maybe it wasn't such a good idea she cooked. He didn't want to make Kate physically ill as well.

"Nonsense, Richard," his mother reprimanded, already determined and heading into the kitchen, and he sighed. If it was really awful, he would just order in for them.

"Castle?"

He glanced back to Kate at his side and she curled her hand around his once she had his attention, led him through his office and into his bedroom and shut the door behind them.

She stripped out of her ruined work clothes, down to nothing but the black cotton bra with the subtle blue bow between the breasts and the striped white and navy panties she had put on that morning, and Rick hesitated.

"Beckett, I know you're-"

"Do you have any clothes I could borrow?"

Oh, well, not was he was expecting.

"Of course."

He stepped past her to search through his bureau until he found a shrunken pair of sweatpants he could hardly wear anymore and an old t-shirt that was made of such soft material, he'd never been willing to throw it out.

"Thanks," she smiled, slipping into the clothing. She headed for his bed next, pulled down the covers and glanced back to him over her shoulder. He knew he must look pretty idiotic, just staring after her with what he was sure was a wonderstruck expression. But he had never seen her so at ease around him, so comfortable, especially in his home. "Will you crawl in with me?"

He wordlessly joined her in the bed, slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around her when she curled her body into his. He was sure she had fallen asleep within a few minutes, her head on his chest unmoving and her breathing steady. But then-

"You love me?" she murmured suddenly and he felt his heart stop.

Kate lifted on one of her elbows so she could see him. She looked expectant and hopeful - a combination he had never seen displayed by Kate Beckett. At least, not for him.

"Yes," he replied evenly. And it was true. He had denied it so much to himself that he had hoped sooner or later he would believe it wasn't, but he had begun falling in love with her before he'd fallen into bed with her and now he was hopeless in how much he loved her, drowning too deep in it to be rescued.

"I love you too," she whispered like it was a secret and Castle felt his mouth go dry.

Hearing her say the words, to confirm that she felt the same, had always been nothing more than a fantasy to him, something that would never occur in real life. And he wanted to believe she meant it, but after what she had just been through, the rollercoaster of emotions, it made him reluctant.

"Beckett, you don't have to..."

Her brow furrowed, the hurt creeping into the edges of her eyes, before she realized where he was going with this, what he was thinking.

"I know how it must look," she admitted quietly. "But I do mean it, Castle. I've felt this for a while now, and after nearly losing you today…" Her lips pursed as her fingers gently ventured over his cheek, past his ear and into his hair, tenderly settling at the back of his skull where he was still in considerable pain from head-butting Coonan. "I should've said it sooner."

Shit, she was going to make him cry, and that was _so _unmanly, but she actually loved him.

Rick curled a hand around her nape, gently urged her face closer so he could touch her lips to his. Kate's fingers remained delicate on the sore spot at the back of his head, the pads of her fingertips applying only careful pressure as she kissed him. She was pulling away all too soon, her breath still coating his lips where she laid one last chaste kiss before meeting his eyes.

"Tonight," was all she said, but it was more than enough. Her head returned to his chest, her cheek over his breastbone, his heartbeat lulling her into a well-needed slumber.

Tonight he was making love to Kate Beckett.


	10. 2x13: Sucker Punch (part two)

She awoke to familiar fingers fluttering along her forehead, smoothing her bangs from her face and tracing the curve of her eyebrow. Kate turned into the touch, smiled softly when his palm cupped her cheek. But there was an odd smell in the air, something like… smoke?

Her nose scrunched and her eyes slipped open.

"Is there a fire?" she rasped and Castle chuckled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand.

"No, my mother tried to cook dinner, remember?"

"Oh no," she whispered, unable to stop the laugh from rising up and out of her mouth, her hand lifting to her lips to stop more amusement from escaping.

"I ordered a pizza, should be here in about five minutes," he sighed and Kate's stomach growled at the thought of a good slice of deep dish Manhattan pizza. "Apparently, it was the right choice," he smirked.

She hummed, taking in the warm blue sweater he had changed into, the worn looking jeans, liking the transition. Kate pushed into a sitting position, stretching her arms above her head and popping her back before arching an eyebrow when she noticed him staring at her with hidden concern.

"I'm okay, Castle," she said quietly.

"You're not," he refuted softly, and maybe he was right, but she still slipped free of the covers and abandoned the comfort of his bed to stand beside him. Her toes curled against the coolness of the hardwood beneath her bare feet, but she lifted on them to capture his lips, to let him know that she did remember what she had said before falling asleep with him and she stood by it.

She loved him.

"But I will be."

Everything wasn't okay, she still felt pieces of her heart shredded and stinging over losing Dick Coonan, the first solid lead she had had in years, but for tonight, she could have pizza with his family, exist contently with him and forget about how her day had brought her here.

Satisfied with her form of reassurance, Castle found her hand, linked their fingers and led her out of his bedroom with a dopey smile on his face. Kate had to bite her lip when they entered the living room and she caught sight of Martha fanning away the endless billows of smoke escaping the opened hatch of the oven. Alexis looked on in pity from the bar, a textbook open in front of her.

"I'm surprised you slept through the smoke alarm," Castle rumbled in her ear and the chuckle she had been suppressing at the scene tumbled free, gaining both redheads' attention.

"Hey, Kate," Alexis said with a smile, but there was a timid tint to the girl's eyes and Kate momentarily worried she had overstepped by being here, by walking out of Castle's bedroom in his clothes and with his hand clasped in hers, but when Alexis caught sight of their hands, her small smile actually seemed to grow, and she jumped down from the barstool, met Kate with a hug when they reached the kitchen. "Dad explained what happened today and we're glad you're okay," she whispered when Castle stepped away and Kate hugged his daughter back, stroked her fingers through the long locks of her fiery hair.

"Me too," she murmured into the top of her head, sensing Castle's eyes on her.

The doorbell rang and Alexis was the one to volunteer to answer, slipping free from Kate's embrace and strolling happily to the front door to retrieve their dinner.

The four of them ate in the living room, Alexis and Martha both in separate armchairs while Castle stretched himself out on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table, and Kate decided to surprise him, settling next to him and tucking herself into his side. If his mother or daughter noticed the closeness of their seating arrangement, they didn't make visible note of it, focusing on the slices of pepperoni on their plates and searching the satellite for a decent television program to use as background noise while they ate.

"Beckett?"

She glanced up at him, his eyes still a little too wide. She knew she was being a tad unfair, breaking all the rules she had so firmly placed on them all in one go, but it was exhilarating, to freely touch and be touched without worrying about who was watching and what each sweep of his fingers meant.

She had told him she loved him and no, that didn't magically make their relationship effortless, but it rid her of the anguish that had been gnawing at her for months, caused the guilt of feeling as though she was stringing him along to recede, because now she could show him every feeling he had towards her was mutual and he didn't have to suppress them anymore. He didn't have to wait until he believed she was asleep to whisper his love for her into the darkness.

Her mother's case had always been the most important thing in her life, but he was beginning to rival for the position.

"Eat your pizza, Castle."

* * *

After Martha and Alexis had wished them a good night too early in the evening, a not so subtle attempt to give them some privacy he was sure, Kate had dropped her head to his shoulder and quietly inquired if she could use his bath before bed.

Always eager to please, he had immediately sprung into action, rising from the couch and heading straight for his bathroom.

He adjusted the water to the steamy temperature he knew she preferred after a long day and scanned his bathroom while the tub filled. He owned none of the bath items Kate tended to use when lounging in the tub at her apartment, nothing special to assist in creating a calm setting for her, but he did have a jacuzzi tub that was probably half the size of her bathroom and he felt that would make up for the lack of bubbles and bath salts. He also found a candle in the cabinet, a lavender scent he liked because of its soothing quality to help him relax on nights he felt too wired to sleep.

He lit the candle, set it on the vanity, and hoped the scent would have its signature affect on her as he plopped himself down on the edge of the tub.

He felt simultaneously overwhelmed and amazed by the woman he could hear rustling around in his bedroom.

During dinner, she had made a movie date with his daughter, talked about the latest broadway plays with his mother and listened intently when she launched into one of her ancient theatre tales he and Alexis had both heard too many times to count. She had sat curled into him on the couch in front of his family like it was something she did every night. Every action a testament to the fact that she was in this, that she wanted more with him.

None of that eased his guilt though, the fact that he had made her shoot her mother's killer. He had destroyed her only lead, meddled in her life just like always, and he was no longer sure if he deserved a place in her world anymore.

"You okay?"

His head snapped up to see her lingering hesitantly in the doorway.

"Yeah, yeah, great," he assured her quickly as she stepped inside the bathroom with only his t-shirt remaining on her body, the worn material brushing the skin of her thighs while she made her way towards him. "I actually wanted to thank you, for being so… amazing, tonight."

Her brow furrowed, her mouth quirking with subtle amusement.

"You mean with your family?"

He nodded.

"I wasn't _amazing_, Castle," she chuckled, using her fingers to create air quotes around the adjective. "Your mother and daughter just make it really easy to feel comfortable."

Kate came to a stop in between his knees, perching hands on his shoulders and smiling softly when she noticed the candle near the sink.

"I know I don't have a lot here, but if you want, I'm sure Alexis has some bubble bath upstairs or-"

"Castle."

He should have prepared better, should have figured something out for her while she was napping in his bed. He should have known she would have wanted to relax after the day she'd had.

"Or my mother might actually have some soothing soaps left over from her recent spa retreat, maybe some lotions too. And I could get you a glass of wine-"

"Rick," she murmured, pressing him back down when he moved to get up and curling her fingers around his ears.

Just one look at her eyes told him she knew.

He didn't mean to lose his grasp on his composure, didn't mean for her to see through him so easily, so he dropped his head before she could see anything else, pressed his face to her stomach and gripped her waist with his hands to hold her there for just a moment. But she wasn't going anywhere to begin with, standing steadily despite the foreign act of intimacy. He exhaled heavily when he felt her fingers in his hair, her nails combing through the disheveled locks.

"It wasn't your fault," she said softly and Castle unwillingly glanced up, took a breath and shook his head, nose brushing the line of her waist.

"I overstepped."

"Castle-"

"And I think it would be best if… I'm through, Kate."

She stiffened in his hands, her eyebrows drawing in and her jaw falling in confusion.

"I can't shadow you anymore," he continued. "If it wasn't for me-"

She lifted his chin in her hands, staring down at him sternly. "If it wasn't for you, I would have never found my mom's killer."

But Castle still vehemently shook his head in denial. "And I made you kill him. I took away the one lead you had and put you in a position that-"

"He was going to kill you," she stated bluntly. "It was him or you and you come before any lead."

Her eyes were hard and serious, but he still felt his heart quicken at her words, at their meaning, and as she rested her forehead to his, smoothed her thumbs along the bones of his cheeks, he started to believe them.

"Someday soon, I'm going to find the sons of bitches who had Coonan kill her," she swore into the breath of space between them. "And I'd like you around when I do."

She took a step back, slid the t-shirt off in one fluid motion, but easily held his eyes with hers, distracted him from her body with the intensity of her gaze. She kept her hand on his shoulder as she climbed into the nearly filled bathtub, trailed her fingers down the inside of his arm as she settled in the middle, small and fierce all it at once as she looked up at him with those luminous eyes. Completely unguarded.

"I've gotten used to you pulling my pigtails," she admitted, curling her knees into her chest with a little smile. "I have a hard job, Castle, but having you around… you make it a little more fun. And outside of the job, you make me happy." Her eyes lowered, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink, and he grinned down at her despite himself, because by the look of it, Kate Beckett was just as smitten with him as he was with her. "Now, take your clothes off and get in the tub."

The laugh stumbled out of him and he was pleased to see it made her smile grow. Castle shed his clothes and followed in after her, sank into the space behind her and welcomed her body when it leant back into his.

* * *

When her skin was clean and her lips fused to his, Castle snagged the towels he had set out beside the tub, urged her upwards and draped the terrycloth around her shoulders, followed her out of the water and into the bedroom, went to work at slowly dragging the towel over her skin.

"Castle," she sighed impatiently when he dropped the towel and roamed his hands along her frame instead.

He knew she was all worked up after he had traced his fingers over every inch of her skin under the water of the bath. She jerked him upwards by his hair, distracted him with the caress of her lips as she somehow managed to turn them around without his notice, and then he was falling with her to the bed, her body a perfect weight over his.

Her lips left his to explore. She had touched her mouth to his skin many times, too many to count, in the last five months. Tonight felt like the first time – her lips like fire as they traveled down his neck, her tongue scorching as it laved a languid path along his skin and marked his flesh. His eyes fluttered closed, the breath in his lungs catching when she closed her lips over his nipple, teased the taut peak between her teeth, before moving to press a kiss to the middle of his sternum, over the furious pounding of his heart.

His hands skimmed up her back, drawing the wave of her body upwards, crashing her into him and flipping her over. Kate scraped her nails down his chest, appreciating the play of muscles there, but then her hands were moving again, trailing along every ridge, plain, and valley of his skin and bones, eliciting numerous sparks of heat and hitches in his breathing.

Castle used his knee to easily pry hers apart, the limbs falling open in invitation, and he dipped his head to feather his lips down the length of her body, a slow worship with his mouth he had been aching to perform for so long. Hearing her release a throaty whine when his lips touched her abdomen, he returned to settle over her, hips falling into the cradle of hers as his length glided through her folds. She gasped, but nudged her pelvis upwards, encouraging.

He slid inside effortlessly, the familiar, hot clench of her muscles around him causing his face to fall to the crook of her neck, reining in the need, but then she spoke.

"You feel so good," she breathed, the admission only adding to the struggle in restraint.

His first, long stroke had her mewling, biting her lip against the noise to no avail. If they were at her apartment, he knew she wouldn't censor herself. Every sound that escaped her lips would fill the air, but out of consideration for his family, she turned her head, muffled her moans with his pillow.

Rick curled his hand behind her knee, lifted her leg and positioned it high at his back, an angle he knew from experience would push her closer to the edge, and watched her mouth soundlessly fall open at the amplification in intensity. Her heel dug into his lower back while the other aided in lifting her body - surging, undulating, breaking against his.

He rocked into her slowly, keeping a steady, unhurried rhythm, but Kate was writhing beneath him, almost frantic in the way she met his movements with her own. He could feel the distinct, tightening sensation at the base of his spine, had to blink against the spots clouding his vision, knew he was seconds away from shattering, but not without her.

"Let go, Castle."

"You-"

Her hands framed his face, her fingers twining in his hair as her mouth sealed over his, her tongue hot and insistent. "I'm with you, just let go."

His body couldn't help but obey her and his crescendo in pleasure pulled her right along with him, her spine arcing and her arms tightening around his neck as her ragged breath of release washed over his neck where she buried her face.

When his heartbeat steadied and his breath no longer rattled up his throat, his gaze climbed up to meet hers, his hand following his line of sight and cradling the gorgeous angle of her jaw. Kate hummed and tipped her chin upwards, captured his lips in a leisurely kiss, a lazy smile curling against his as she sighed.

He rolled onto his back, brought her with him until she was half-sprawled along his chest. She seemed to find comfort in the position, nuzzling her face against the convergence of his throat and clavicle, finding sleep in their web of tangled limbs within minutes.

"Night, Kate," he sighed into the quiet, the calming cadence of her breathing coaxing him into a slumber of his own.

* * *

She woke them both, twice, with nightmares. Her mother's name, sometimes his, spilling from her lips with the panic and the tears. He held her as she cried through each one, sifted his fingers through her hair and whispered futile words of comfort into her temple. Each attempt at consolation turned into something more, gratitude and need overtaking, and each time she mumbled an unexpected _love you, Castle _before she allowed herself to fall from his arms into sleep's once more, before she could hear him say it back.

* * *

He woke early and alone and it made his veins turn to ice, his heart tripping over itself, and he quickly staggered out of the bed, towards the bedroom door before he realized he was still naked. He turned on his heel, eyes scanning the floor for his clothing when he realized he had stripped everything off in the bathroom the night before.

"Castle?"

He spun again, nearly stumbled over his own feet.

She hadn't left. In fact, she looked as though she had made herself very much at home. Kate was in one of his dress shirts, a white button down she must have picked out from his closet, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows while her legs remained beautifully bare. Her hair fell messily around her face, still tousled and mussed from the night before, and she had two cups of coffee in her grasp.

She arched an eyebrow at him, flicking her gaze down and smothering an appreciative smirk, because she knew why he looked so stricken and hopeful and lost all at once.

Rick moved back to his side of the bed as she softly shut the bedroom door behind her, gratefully accepted the mug of coffee she offered him when she settled next to him, but as he slowly sipped at the hot liquid, she set hers down on the nightstand.

"I thought you left," he murmured and she nodded.

"I know." Her fingers tentatively grazed his and Castle opened his hand, let her palm rest against his. "But I didn't."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"You love me."

"I do," she confirmed, a lovely little smile flirting along the edges of her lips.

"Will you go to dinner with me?"

She laughed, a soft, melodious thing that fluttered through the early morning quiet of his bedroom, but she nodded, much to his surprise, and lowered her forehead to his shoulder.

"Sure, Castle."

"Can I tell everyone you're my girlfriend?"

"Don't push it," she sighed, dusting her lips over his skin.

He chuckled, pressed a fleeting kiss to the top of her head.

"Where are you going?" she asked when he suddenly rose from the bed.

"I'm going to make you pancakes, you know, the edible way of saying 'thank you _so much_ for last night'," he smirked, waggling his eyebrows at her and she chucked a pillow at him, still smiling even as she missed her target.

After the events of yesterday, all the pain she had endured, he honestly hadn't expected this, any of it, but he couldn't remember a time he had seen Kate Beckett so happy.

* * *

**A/N: I realize many expected this story continue deeper into season two, but at this point, it feels complete for me and only one chapter will follow - an epilogue of sorts that I hope you all still enjoy.**


	11. 2x14: The Third Man

_"Though claiming to be single, Richard Castle is rumored to be romantically involved with NYPD Detective Kate Beckett - the inspiration for Nikki Heat, the heroine of his latest best-selling novel. Bachelor number nine may not be eligible for next year's list."_

_2x14: The Third Man_

* * *

Kate was hovering above him when he opened his eyes, a leisurely smile spread across her lips that he could not resist pressing his mouth to.

"Morning, Castle."

Kate sat back on his thighs and Rick pushed up on his elbows, prepared to seek her lips again, but she shoved something against his chest. He glanced down curiously, closed his fingers around the stack of articles between them.

"You brought me the paper?" he questioned quizzically.

"A section of the paper," she corrected, unfolding the pages and pointing to a specific article in the Ledger - New York's annual 10 Most Eligible Bachelor's list.

Oh no.

"So Castle, is it true? Are you finally off the market?" she smirked.

His eyes scanned the blurb under his name frantically, his heart rate increasing at the mention of 'romantic involvement with Detective Kate Beckett'. She was going to kill him. But… then why was she perched on his thighs looking deliciously smug?

"I - wait a second, why aren't you angry about this?"

She shrugged, her lashes lowering to shadow across her cheeks. "I'm not thrilled to be mentioned in that article, and I'm not looking forward to the flack I'll get at work over it, but I don't necessarily _mind _women thinking bachelor number nine is unavailable."

He blinked, but slid his hands along her outer thighs, up to her hips. "You don't mind people knowing the rumors are true?"

"I don't mind them thinking they are. I still want us to have our relationship as just ours," she confessed, a shy gleam to her eyes, his heart fluttering at the _our relationship_ slipping past her lips. He still wasn't used to it, being hers.

"I'm good with that."

She nodded, but bit her lip as if remembering something.

"Oh, and I'd watch out. Alexis isn't thrilled."

He winced and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "Alexis saw it?"

"We read it together over breakfast."

"Oh god," he sighed, flopping back against the pillows at his back. "She hates when I end up in these things."

"Can you blame her?" Kate reasoned softly, setting the paper to the side and crawling forward until her hair fell in a short curtain around her face as she looked down at him

"No. It was never a big deal in the past, but now that she's older, I know she doesn't appreciate it," he murmured, remembering last year when he had been bachelor number seven and Alexis had returned from school with a handful of phone numbers from teachers wanting to date him. She hadn't been truly angry, but he knew it made her uncomfortable, and that alone didn't sit well with him.

"Should I offer up my credit card as apology?"

Beckett huffed, but shook her head. "No, Castle. Just try to empathize a little. You can't change what they put in the paper, but you can assure her you're not the guy on the page, just like you always do."

Castle slid up onto his elbows again, used the leverage to propel himself into a sitting position, and Kate's legs folded smoothly around his waist.

"What about you, should I assure you as well?" he murmured, leaning forward to pepper kisses along the skin of her neck.

"Mm," she grinned, her eyes slipping shut as she tilted her head to the side, offering him better access and guiding his movement with the fingers threading through his hair. "You assured me plenty last night."

"Once more couldn't hurt," he reasoned, his palm skidding down her spine, pressing her closer and her body arched in response, her wordless agreement.

And then her phone rang.

She sighed disappointedly, but snatched the device from his nightstand, flicked his ear to get his mouth away from her chest as she answered in her clipped, professional tone.

"Okay," she said after a few seconds of listening silently to the person on the other line. "Be there in twenty. We've got a body."

As she said it, her body abandoned his and he whined, watching her saunter to his closet and strip from his sweatpants and t-shirt – her usual sleep attire on nights she stayed over. He should follow her out of the bed, graze her warm skin with teasing fingertips while he moved to retrieve his own clothes, but watching her retract a navy blouse from the front of the walk-in was quite the mesmerizing sight. Kate Beckett kept clothes at his home and it delighted him more than he ever could have imagined it would.

"You want to go to dinner?" he blurted gracelessly, stopping her in her tracks in the middle of the room.

He had asked her the same question nearly a week ago and she had said yes without hesitation, but with her hectic work schedule at the precinct, one he mirrored, they both tended to opt for returning to his loft or her apartment instead of going out after a long day. But he didn't want to put it off any longer, he wanted to take her out.

"Like, on a date?"

He shrugged. He still had to play this carefully, ease her into the idea, or else he would risk spooking her. He had done it before. But to his surprise, a girly, totally unlike Beckett smile spread across her lips, as if she was actually pleased with the idea.

"Sure, Castle. I'd love to."

He knew his smile beat out hers in seconds, stretching almost painfully in width, because Kate Beckett had just accepted his offer to go out on a date with him.

"I'll make a reservation at Drago."

She huffed at the extravagant suggestion as she stepped into her heels. "You just want to get me in a fancy dress."

"Maybe. Especially since undressing you will be _so_ very enjoyable," he reasoned with a devious arch of his eyebrow and Kate rolled her eyes, but he could see a subtle hint of excitement at the idea of it – dressing up, going out to dinner together. Their first real date.

* * *

Castle being listed on a notorious eligible bachelors list came with a few minor consequences. A bachelorette from the Ledger contacted him, hoping for a date, and Lanie attempted to set Kate up with a fireman from some calendar in response, and finding reason to say no when they were both supposed to be single proved difficult without revealing the truth.

"You can't go out with her," Beckett hissed, her finger darting forward to jab him in the chest.

They were down in archives, pretending to search for an old case file they didn't even need. What they needed was a game plan because she was _not _going out with Brad the fireman who spent his free time playing hero and saving puppies.

"I don't _want_ to go out with her, but if I say no, what will that look like? It'll prove the rumors true."

Kate pursed her lips, silent for a moment before shaking her head and lifting her fingers to rub at her temples.

"Then let them think they're true. I don't care. I'm not going to watch you date another woman."

"And I'm not going to watch you date another man," Castle replied, hands rising to slip over her hips, tug her closer. Her teeth closed over the flesh of her bottom lip and her eyes flickered from his gaze to his mouth.

"Good."

He lowered his head, nose clashing with hers.

"Jealous, Detective?"

She scoffed, but squeezed at his biceps. "I don't share."

"Good," he echoed. "Because I don't share either."

"But what do we tell everyone?" she sighed, bumping her forehead into his.

"We've each decided on a vowed life of celibacy?"

"Castle."

"I'll say no to bachelorette number three, you tell Lanie you're not interested in Mr. July, and if anyone questions it…" His sentence trailed because keeping them a secret was hard, harder than he had thought it would be. He valued their privacy, how they were still in their own little bubble with only his mother and daughter aware of its existence, but in situations like these, he didn't know how to prevent the bubble from bursting.

"Would it be so bad if they knew?" she murmured, eyeing him apprehensively.

He pondered it for a moment, the teasing – and inevitable big brother talk he would likely receive – from the boys, the blurbs about them in the tabloids, the possible attraction of paparazzi finally having a reason to follow him (and her) around. No, he hoped to prolong the latter for as long as possible.

"What if you just tell Lanie the truth? If Ryan and Esposito find out, so be it, but I don't want the reporters or paparazzi learning about us yet."

The mere mention of vultures with cameras had her eyes widening and he gently squeezed at her waist.

"Just a worst case scenario, Kate."

She swallowed and nodded. "I'll tell Lanie, if she pushes it when I turn down her offer to set me up with Brad. You just get rid of bachelorette number three."

The title of the other woman came out bitter, because she was definitely jealous, and he quickly ducked his head, sipped greedily from her mouth. Kate arched into him, her hands clutching at his hair as her chest crushed against his. The claiming press of her lips and nip of her teeth only lasted a moment before she was jerking away, eyes immediately alert and scanning the barren room.

"If you still want to go to dinner tonight, you'll stop that and focus on the case with me," she huffed, brushing his hands from her waist and taking a resolute step back.

She glanced around the corner, checking to be sure the desk sergeant at the entrance didn't appear suspicious and then she strode away from him, towards the exit, and Castle trailed after her, only slightly disappointed she had stopped him from taking her against a shelf of old case files.

* * *

"Neither of those," Alexis said from behind him, stealing the two ties he had been trying to decide between and placing a deep red one in his hands. "See."

"Oh, you're good," he smiled, looping the tie around his neck and turning to allow her fingers to fasten it. He had been attempting to prepare for his date with Kate since he had returned home from the precinct over two hours ago. He was shocked to find he was a little nervous. Which made no sense considering he and Kate had done a lot more than dinner. "Hey, you would let me know if this was weird for you right?"

"Weird?" Alexis echoed, furrowing her brow as she adjusted the material around his neck.

"Me, your parent, dating. Me dating Detective Beckett."

His daughter rolled her eyes and the relief rippled through him. She seemed to genuinely like Kate, her face lighting up whenever the detective walked through the door with him or decided to stay for dinner, he just had to be sure because this was his daughter and if she felt the least bit uncomfortable, he wanted to fix it.

At least this he could fix with a talk, unlike his place in the Ledger. She still wasn't happy about that.

"I like Detective Beckett, you know that."

"I know, I just want to be sure that you're okay with everything and that you're comfortable and-"

She sighed in exasperation. "Dad, Kate is the first real person you've dated in a long time. She – I can tell that your relationship is real. It's not some silly fling with some random woman from the paper." She met his eyes pointedly in the mirror, but he waved her off.

"Go on."

"I trust Kate. I trust her with you and your heart," she added a little shyly, lowering her gaze from his in the mirror. "She would take care of you when I'm not around, since I won't be forever, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there," he chuckled, smoothing his hand down the tie and subtly pressing his fingertips into his sternum to calm the muscle in his chest that was picking up speed. "It's just a date. I won't be buying a ring anytime soon."

"I know," she sighed, looping an arm through his and resting her cheek on his shoulder, smiling softly at him in the mirror. "But I won't mind when you do."

Oh. His daughter had just granted him her blessing to marry Kate Beckett.

This should not even be on the table. Yet, he was oddly relieved.

"Breathe, Dad."

He exhaled dramatically and wrapped his arms around Alexis as she laughed, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you, Pumpkin."

Her smile widened.

"Anytime."

No, he wouldn't be buying Kate a ring. Not yet.

* * *

Castle showed up at her apartment at six thirty, a bouquet of lilies in hand because she had admitted that she loved the flowers, even if she failed to keep them alive for more than a few days. He didn't mind if the plants died, as long as he got to see her face light up when he presented them to her.

He nearly dropped the flowers when she opened the door, his mouth falling open at the sight of her in a vibrant red dress that draped across her lithe figure like it was made for her.

"Beckett," he breathed, mechanically holding the flowers out to her, but he couldn't force his eyes to cease from roving her frame from top to bottom. He had seen her dressed up before, but not like this, not for him.

"Hey Castle," she chuckled, rescuing the flowers from his failing grasp and transferring them to her kitchen.

She startled when he came up behind her, smoothed his hands over her abdomen possessively and dropped his mouth to the exposed skin of her shoulder.

"Rick." Her voice stuttered over the syllable of his name, her head tilting back into his chest as his tongue darted out to taste her neck. "Reservation."

"Skip it," he mumbled distractedly, but her fingers curled around his, gently detached them from her waist.

"Later," she hummed, turning her head to sweep her lips across his cheek before pulling away. "I promise."

* * *

Dinner at Drago wasn't as enjoyable as either had hoped. The place was too crowded, the portions were tiny, and she felt uncomfortable, even with Castle's calming hand stroking soothing circles along her bare knee.

"You want to get out of here?" he said before they were even finished with their appetizer and she nodded immediately.

"Please?"

Castle made up some elaborate excuse when the waiter returned, paid the check that made her eyes bulge and left a generous tip before she could even open her clutch and contribute. After he led her out, into the street and cool night air, Kate took a deep breath, the suffocated feeling of being trapped in the lavish restaurant finally abandoning her.

"I'm sorry," he sighed next to her, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck, embarrassment heavy in his eyes, but she merely pressed into his side, twined their fingers.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Castle," she assured him softly, honestly, because there really wasn't. It wasn't his fault they hadn't enjoyed the restaurant. Dressing up, having him pick her up at her apartment with flowers in his hands and an excited glimmer in his eyes had been fun, but she wanted something that was just _them _now. "You want to go get some real food?"

"Remy's?" he grinned and her lips curled to match his. "Lead the way."

Her feet were starting to ache in the strappy gold heels she had chosen for the evening, but she didn't complain on the walk to the diner. Castle draped his suit jacket across her shoulders on the way there and she sighed contently as the sharp scent of his deodorant enveloped her, didn't shrug him off like she usually would when he wrapped a loose arm around her shoulders.

They had only declared their relationship 'official' about a week ago, while she was still reeling from the loss of her mother's killer and dead end in leads. A part of her had secretly feared she had professed her feelings to Castle out of emotional turmoil, in hopes of distracting herself from her pain with his love for her. She worried the consequences of her actions would strike her the next morning or within a few days, but nothing had changed. She still loved him, it still scared her sometimes, but he was patient, he understood, and he was happy. He loved her back.

"You're smiling." His hot breath washed over her ear and she almost turned to kiss him, would have if they weren't on a public sidewalk already just a few feet away from the diner.

"I'm having a good time," she smirked, stepping inside the familiar restaurant as he held the glass door open for her.

"So the likeliness of you inviting me up when I walk you home is pretty strong?"

"I'd even say it was a sure thing," she replied, sliding into their usual booth and grinning seductively when he sat down across from her.

She wasted no time in slipping the toe of her heel under the edge of his pantleg once they had placed an order with the waiter who swung by, trailing the tip of the stiletto up and down the skin of his calf muscle until he growled her name.

When they were finally back at her apartment, they didn't intend to make it to her bedroom, Castle slamming her up against the front door the moment it closed behind them. Her hair was unraveling as his fingers devastated the well placed assortment of bobby pins holding the curls in place and his free hand had just slipped under her dress when her phone started vibrating in her purse on the ground.

"Ignore it," he husked, his lips staining the skin of her neck. She could feel the blood rushing to the spot, knew it was too late to stop the red and purple blend that would mar her throat.

"Ryan and Espo, the case," she gasped, her leg hitching high at his thigh while her fingers tore through the buttons of his shirt despite her words.

"Five minutes," he murmured, raking his teeth over her collarbone.

She bit her lip before nodding vigorously. "Five minutes."

Castle hoisted her up at the agreement, taking the well-traveled path to her bedroom, murmuring about how he would be _damned_ if he did not get to peel this dress off as he had planned.

"You going to ravish me in five minutes?" she smirked when he dropped her on the bed.

His blue eyes sparked, cerulean turning to indigo as his knee slid between hers and their fingers laced, his hands pinning hers above her head, stretching her upper body taut on the bed. "I'll make it the best five minutes of your life."

* * *

Five minutes turned to ten, maybe closer to fifteen because he kept going lower and lower with his mouth before her dress had even come off, but she did eventually call Ryan and Esposito back as she tried in vain to fix her disheveled hair, combing it back into a hasty bun while the boys rattled on about her correct hunch concerning the pet shop's importance to their investigation.

"Knew it," Castle quipped from beside her, his eyes widening in horror a second too late.

"Castle's with you?" Esposito questioned curiously from the other line and Beckett scrambled to find an excuse. "I thought you said you were at home."

"I was. I just picked him up."

"But you just-"

"See you in ten, Espo."

She quickly ended the call, sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I blew it," he sighed, leaning against her bathroom counter and scraping a hand through his own mussed hair.

Kate stepped between his knees, batted his hands away and went to work at taming the pieces of hair sticking up in every direction.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "So what if you did? We discussed this, it's okay."

"But we-"

"The boys can keep a secret, just like Lanie is, and they'll surely be just as thrilled," she assured him with the corners of her lips tugging upwards. "I don't care if they know."

His eyes lifted, lighting up at her soft expression, and his fingers rose to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, before falling to the waistband of her slacks.

"I love you, Kate."

She cradled his face in her palms, dusting her fingers up the warm skin of his jaw to curl at his ears. She tugged him forward for a chaste kiss, a taste of something sweet before they had to go.

"Love you too, Castle."

* * *

**A/N: This story was so much fun to write and I sincerely appreciate the unimaginable amount of support shown to it. Thank you to all who took the time to read, follow, favorite, and review - it makes writing worth it.**

**And the greatest of thank you's to Laura, who read over every chapter and listened to every single uncertainty I had throughout this journey and didn't hesitate in accompanying me onto the next.**

**If you're interested, keep an eye out for the companion piece: _still with hearts beating _**


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